Calvin had to admit that he was impressed by the ease with which Mr. Brigant handled the master's cat. Calvin himself would never coaxed her so amicably, nor, likely, would he have been so trusted by the animal as to have it jump on his shoulder with its clawful little paws. Really, he couldn't help but wince as she landed there, and took a step closer to the armoire when she was safe and sound on the ground. "Well done, Mr. Brigant," Calvin said, with real admiration in his voice. "I'm glad you happened by. You accomplished that far faster and more easily than I would've."
He drew a white handkerchief from his pocket and carefully (though blindly; the armoire was too high to see over) began to wipe down the top if it, where the cat had been. It was difficult work that required some slight craning (and he really should've had a stepstool) but he managed. "She likes you," he said as he wiped away all traces of fur.