“In⁠—deed!” cried Wegg. “Pleasant Riderhood. There’s something moving in the name. Pleasant. Dear me! Seems to express what she might have been, if she hadn’t made that unpleasant remark⁠—and what she ain’t, in consequence of having made it. Would it at all pour balm into your wounds, Mr. Venus, to inquire how you came acquainted with her?”

“I was down at the waterside,” said Venus, taking another gulp of tea and mournfully winking at the fire⁠—“looking for parrots”⁠—taking another gulp and stopping.

Mr. Wegg hinted, to jog his attention: “You could hardly have been out parrot-shooting, in the British climate, sir?”

“No, no, no,” said Venus fretfully. “I was down at the waterside, looking for parrots brought home by sailors, to buy for stuffing.”

“Ay, ay, ay, sir!”