“Oh!” said Diamond, dubiously.
“Why should you see things,” returned North Wind, “that you wouldn't understand or know what to do with? Good people see good things; bad people, bad things.”
“Then are you a bad thing?”
“No. For you see me, Diamond, dear,” said the girl, and she looked down at him, and Diamond saw the loving eyes of the great lady beaming from the depths of her falling hair.
“I had to make myself look like a bad thing before she could see me. If I had put on any other shape than a wolf's she would not have seen me, for that is what is growing to be her own shape inside of her.”
“I don't know what you mean,” said Diamond, “but I suppose it's all right.”
They were now climbing the slope of a grassy ascent. It was Primrose Hill, in fact, although Diamond had never heard of it. The moment they reached the top, North Wind stood and turned her face towards London The stars were still shining clear and cold overhead. There was not a cloud to be seen. The air was sharp, but Diamond did not find it cold.
“Now,” said the lady, “whatever you do, do not let my hand go. I might have lost you the last time, only I was not in a hurry then: now I am in a hurry.”
Yet she stood still for a moment.