Mr. Sloppy opened it, if possible, wider, and kept it open until his laugh was out.

“Why, you’re like the giant,” said Miss Wren, “when he came home in the land of Beanstalk, and wanted Jack for supper.”

“Was he good-looking, Miss?” asked Sloppy.

“No,” said Miss Wren. “Ugly.”

Her visitor glanced round the room⁠—which had many comforts in it now, that had not been in it before⁠—and said: “This is a pretty place, Miss.”

“Glad you think so, sir,” returned Miss Wren. “And what do you think of Me?”

The honesty of Mr. Sloppy being severely taxed by the question, he twisted a button, grinned, and faltered.