The words did prove how much Dietre wanted the cat, and Francis felt more assured about the scenario. Even so, he would be keeping a close eye on the kid and his pet, and he hadn't been kidding about getting rid of it at first sign of neglect from Dietre. Just because a person wanted something badly and was dedicated now didn't mean they would maintain it, and taking care of a pet could be dirty work. He thought about telling Dietre that, but saved him the lecture.
"I'm sure the kid will be happy to have the cat off his hands," Francis responded, not completely in the same vein as Dietre's comment, but close enough. The fright had sobered him up a little, but he still felt drunk, heavy, and decidedly actually sleepy – even though he could have stayed up with the kid.
Without saying anything, Francis headed toward the stairs to the enclosed loft that was his room, only stopping about halfway up the stairs to look back at Dietre. "Hey, uh, good night. Don't worry about what happened tonight ... just think about the cat."
And with those awkward parting words, Francis continued his trek to his bedroom, reached the door, let himself in, and then closed it behind him.