Griselda stept back from the window.
"It's you, is it?" she said rather surlily, her tone seeming to infer that she had taken a great deal of trouble for nothing.
"Of course it is, and why shouldn't it be? You're not generally so sorry to see me. What's the matter?"
"Nothing's the matter," replied Griselda, feeling a little ashamed of her want of civility; "only, you see, if I had known it was you" She hesitated.
"You wouldn't have clambered up and hurt your poor fingers in opening the window if you had know it was me—is that it, eh?" said the cuckoo.
Somehow, when the cuckoo said "eh?" like that, Griselda was obliged to tell just what she was thinking.
"No, I wouldn't have needed to open the window," she said. "You can get in or out whenever
