He asked her politely where she was going
The wolf was not long in reaching the grandmother’s door. He knocked, Toc—toc, and the grandmother said, “Who is there?”
“It is your child, Little Red-Riding-Hood,” replied the wicked beast, imitating the girl’s voice; “I bring you a cake and a pot of butter, which my mother has sent you.”
The grandmother, who was ill in her bed, said, “Very well, my dear, pull the string and the latch will open.” The wolf pulled the string—the door flew open; he leaped in, fell upon the poor old woman, and ate her up in less than no time, tough as she was, for he had not tasted anything for more than three days. Then he carefully shut the door, and laying himself down snugly in the bed, waited for Little Red-Riding-Hood, who was not long before she came and knocked, Toc—toc, at the door.
“Who is there?” said the wolf; and the little maiden, hearing his gruff voice, felt sure that her poor grandmother must have caught a bad cold and be very ill indeed.
So she answered, cheerfully, “It is your child, Little Red-Riding-Hood, who brings you a cake and a pot of butter that my mother has sent you.”
Then the wolf, softening his voice as much as he could, said, “Pull the string, and the latch will open.”
So Little Red-Riding-Hood pulled the string and the door opened. The wolf, seeing her enter, hid himself as much as he could under the coverlid of the bed, and said in a whisper, “Put the cake and the pot of butter on the shelf, and then make haste and come to bed, for it is very late.”
Little Red-Riding-Hood did not think so; but, to please her grandmother, she undressed herself and began to get ready for bed, when she was very much astonished to find how different the old woman looked from ordinary.