Daniel had a cat, briefly, when he was younger. She'd appear at the window of his apartment even though it was on the third floor, slide in through the gap next to the shitty box air conditioner, and make herself at home while he was trying to work. She'd had the same luminous orange eyes, and the same tendency to simply sit and watch him do his thing like he was the most enrapturing guy in the world, so this moment is weirdly comforting to him.

Later, he saw on some Netflix doco that cats watch humans because they're listening to their steady heartbeat, using it to orient themselves in the soundscape of the world around them. Daniel wonders what else Armand is listening to right now, alongside his rickety old heart.

He allows it until the questions that always pile up become urgent enough to override the pleasure of the silence, and he acquiesces in speaking first: "So what brings you to England? Kind of a coincidence you being here - or are you selling another painting?" Like he hadn't believed that story for some reason.