Leading to this opening there is on one side a narrow, jagged
shelf which runs half-way round the pool. Sinfi's movements now were
an exact repetition of everything she did on that first morning of
our search for Winnie.
While I stood partially concealed in my crevice, Sinfi took up her
crwth, which was lying on the rock.
'What are you going; to do, Sinfi?' I said.
'I'm just goin' to bring back old times for you. You remember that
mornin' when my crwth and song called Winnie to us at this very llyn?
I'm goin' to play on my crwth and sing the same song now. It's to
draw her livin' mullo, as I did at Bettws and Beddgelert, so that the
dukkeripen of the "Golden Hand" may come true.'
'But how can it come true, Sinfi?' I said.
'The dukkeripen allus does come true, whether it's good or whether
it's bad.'
'Not always,' I said.
'No, not allus,' she cried, starting up, while there came over her
face that expression which had so amazed me at Beddgelert. When at
last breath came to her she was looking towards y Wyddfa through the
kindling haze.
Pages:
653
654
655
656
657
658
659
660
661
662
663
664
665
666
667
668
669
670
671
672
673
674
675
676
677