She appeared in a dressing gown and with her feet in slippers.

Her fine hair fell heavily about her shoulders; in her arms she held a beautiful black cat, with white throat and paws.
"This is my child.

Don't you admire him?
Shake hands, Grim." "Why Grim ?" "It's short for Grimalkin.

The name of a cat in a hook of fairy tales I used to be fond of reading.

Don't you think he's got a beautiful face, and a good deal more intelligent than some people we could mention?
I picked him up on our door-step, two months ago.