Bartolo was leaping from stone bench to stone bench, once again in his cat shape. He couldn't help it, really, when he was in the garden. It was much more fun to be able to jump higher as he chased butterflies. Also, he felt more playful in feline form. Not that he lost the playfulness as a human, but it expressed itself not the same way, coming out either in song or through acting. In some ways life was simpler as a cat. At least it seemed that way but he had to admit he didn't have enough experience in human shape to make a complete judgement.
When he noticed the woman, after landing on the bench nearest hers, he realised he probably didn't have enough experience dealing with distressed females either. He could tell she was sad. Most likely about being here.
Though he could have backed away quietly, since she didn't seem to notice him yet, the marmalade-marked cat cleared his throat in what he hoped was a discreet manner.