‘No, don’t get up, Sinfi, my girl,’ I heard Cyril say.  ’Sit down quietly, and I will tell you what, passed.  There is no doubt I did ask her about her father, poor thing; but I did it with the best intentions—­did it for her good, as I thought—­did it to learn whether she had been kidnapped, and certainly not from idle curiosity.’

‘Scepticism, the curse of the age,’ said Wilderspin.

I heard Cyril say, ’Who could have thought it would turn out so?  But you yourself had told me, Wilderspin, of Mother Gudgeon’s injunction not to ask the girl who her father was, and of course it had upon me the opposite effect the funny hag had intended it to have upon you.  It was hard to believe that such a flower could have sprung from such a root.  I thought it very likely that the woman had told you this to prevent your getting at the truth about their connection; so I decided to question the model myself, but determined to wait till you had had a good number of sittings, lest there should come a quarrel with the woman.’

‘Well, an’ so you asked her?’ said Sinfi.

‘I thought the moment had come for me to try to read the puzzle,’ said Cyril.  ’So, on that day when Ebury called, when you, Wilderspin, had left us together, I walked up to her and said, “Is your father alive?"’

‘Ah!’ cried Sinfi, ’it was as I thought.  It was the word “feyther” as killed her!  An’ what’ll become o’ him?’

‘The word “father” seemed to shoot into her like a bullet,’ said Cyril.  ‘She shrieked “Father,” and her face looked—­’

‘No, don’t, tell me how she looked!’ said Sinfi.  ’Mr. Wilderspin’s pictur’ o’ the witch and the lady shows how she looked—­whoever she was.  But if it was Winnie Wynne. what’ll become o’ him?’

Then I heard.  Cyril address Wilderspin again.  ’We had great difficulty, you remember, Wilderspin, in bringing her round, and afterwards I took her out of the house, put her into a cab, and you directed your servant whither to take her.’

‘It was scepticism that ruined all.’  I heard Wilderspin say.

‘And yet,’ said Sinfi, ’the Golden Hand on Snowdon told as he’d marry Winifred Wynne.  Ah! surely the Swimmin’ Rei is in the room!  I thought I heard that choke come in his throat as comes when he frets about Winnie.  Howsomever, I s’pose it must ha’ bin all a fancy o’ mine.’

’You make me laugh, Sinfi, about this golden hand of yours that is stronger than the hand of Death,’ said Cyril; ’and yet I wish from my heart I could believe it.’

’My poor mammy used to say, “The Gorgios believes when they ought to disbelieve, and they disbelieve when they ought to believe, and that gives the Romanies a chance."’

‘Sinfi Lovell,’ said Wilderspin, ’that saying of your mother’s touches at the very root of romantic art.’

’Well, if Gorgios don’t believe enough, Sinfi,—­if there is not enough superstition among certain Gorgio acquaintances of mine, it’s a pity,’ said Cyril.