After a while she became more composed, and sat in a trance, so to
speak, of happiness.
But she remained silent. The conversation, I perceived, would have to
be directed entirely by me. With the appalling seizures ever present
in my mind, I felt that every word that came from my lips was
dangerous.
'Look,' I said, 'the colours of the vapours round the llyn are as
rich as they were when we breakfasted here together.'
'We breakfasted here together! Why, what do you mean?' she said,
looking in my face. 'You forget, Henry, you never knew me in Wales at
all; it was only at Raxton that you ever saw me.'
'I mean when you breakfasted with the Prince of the Mist. I was the
Prince of the Mist, dear.'
She gave me a puzzled look which scared while it warned me. How cruel
it seemed of Sinfi, who had planned this meeting, not to have told me
how much and how little Winnie knew of the past.
'You know nothing about the Prince of the Mist except what I told you
on Raxton sands,' she said. 'But you have been very ill; you will be
well now.
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