After hearing the black cat's story, Shade and Mr. Bernhardt remained silent for a long time. The Outlander did not understand why the animals in this world either never spoke at all, or, once they did, always left such a deep impression on him.
"Then why didn't you go at the time?"
Mr. Bernhardt asked softly beneath the setting sun, and the cat answered as though it were only natural:
"Because I hadn't said goodbye to Little Jeanette! I was supposed to stay with her forever. Now that I'm going to find Mother, of course I have to tell her. Otherwise, she'll be sad."
As it spoke, it licked its fur again:
"You are good humans, and very capable ones. Without you, I probably would have had to wait a long time, until Little Jeanette was about to leave too, before I could see her. Don't worry. Once I see Little Jeanette, I'll tell you anything you want to know."
Mr. Bernhardt looked at Shade again. Shade could tell that the story had left him in a terrible mood as well.
As evening approached, some of the black mist that had shrouded the sky dispersed, revealing an ever more enchanting sunset. The black cat, still grooming itself, stood on Shade's shoulder and told Shade and Mr. Bernhardt stories of its life with "Little Jeanette."
But at a certain moment, it stopped. Clawing at Shade's shoulder, it sprang up and looked toward the eastern side of the street before crying out:
"Oh, it's Little Jeanette!"
It jumped down from Shade's shoulder. Neither Shade nor Mr. Bernhardt chased after it, only calling out:
"Don't scare her!"
A middle-aged woman approached from the eastern side of the street, carrying a paper bag, with two children, one older and one younger, following behind her.