the Cat wasn't ready to admit how he felt yet.
Down on the hearthrug he sat to wash his paws. Suddenly he had a feeling that he was being looked at. It couldn't be Susannah. He had heard her go upstairs to bed. And it couldn't be the Captain, for he was puffing his pipe behind the newspaper. Quickly the Cat turned his head and looked at the window nearest the door. There was a face flattened against the pane, with eyes staring into the room. But before the Cat could see who or what it was, the face had disappeared, and nothing could be seen but the dark leaves of the white lilac bush still moving a little.
