The grandmother lived in a secluded and exclusive part of the village, in a marble cottage situated in the midst of a wooded park. Little Red Riding-Hood got out of the motor when she came to the park, telling the chauffeur she would walk the rest of the way. She hardly passed the hedge when she met a Wolf.
“Whither are you going?” he asked, looking wistfully at her.
“I am going to see my grandmother, and carry her a filet and a little pot of foie gras from my mamma.”
[p 31]
]“Well,” said the Wolf, “I’ll go see her, too. I’ll go this way and you go that, and we shall see who will be there first.”
The Wolf ran off as fast as he could, and was first at the door of the marble cottage. The butler informed him that Madame was not at home, but he sprang through the door, knocking the servant over, and ran upstairs to Madame’s boudoir.
“Who’s there?” asked the grandmother, when the Wolf tapped at the door.
“Your grandchild, Little Red Riding-Hood,” replied the Wolf, counterfeiting the child’s voice, “who has brought you a filet and a little pot of foie gras.”
II
The good grandmother, who had eaten nothing for two days except a mallard, with a pint of champagne, cried out hungrily, “Come in, my dear.”
The Wolf ran in, and, falling upon the old lady, ate her up in a hurry, for he had not tasted food for a whole week. He then got into the bed, and presently Little Red Riding-Hood tapped at the door.