'I could give you twenty names more to call me, Curdie, and not one of them would be a false one. What does it matter how many names if the person is one?'
'Ah! But it is not names only, ma'am. Look at what you were like last night, and what I see you now!'
'Shapes are only dresses, Curdie, and dresses are only names. That which is inside is the same all the time.'
'But then how can all the shapes speak the truth?'
'It would want thousands more to speak the truth, Curdie; and then they could not. But there is a point I must not let you mistake about. It is one thing the shape I choose to put on, and quite another the shape that foolish talk and nursery tale may please to put upon me. Also, it is one thing what you or your father may think about me, and quite another what a foolish or bad man may see in me. For instance, if a thief were to come in here just now, he would think he saw the demon of the mine, all in green flames, come to protect her treasure, and would run like a hunted wild goat. I should be all the same, but his evil eyes would see me as I was not.'
'I think I understand,' said Curdie.
'Peter,' said the lady, turning then to him, 'you will have to give up Curdie for a little while.'
'So long as he loves us, ma'am, that will not matter—much.'
'Ah! you are right there, my friend,' said the beautiful princess. And as she said it she put out her hand, and took the hard, horny hand of the miner in it, and held it for a moment lovingly.
'I need say no more,' she added, 'for we understand each other—you and I, Peter.'