"Thinking of all these things, I sat sipping my Rhine wine in the shadow of the yellow awnings. A large white cat came sauntering by and stopped in front of me to perform her toilet, until I wished she would go away. After a while she sat up, licked her whiskers, yawned once or twice, and was about to stroll on, when, catching sight of me, she stopped short and looked me squarely in the face. I returned the attention with a scowl, because I wished to discourage any advances towards social intercourse which she might contemplate; but after a while her steady gaze disconcerted me, and I turned to my Rhine wine. A few minutes later I looked up again. The cat was still eying me. "'Now what the devil is the matter with the animal,' I muttered; 'does she recognize in me a relative?' "'Perhaps,' observed a man at the next table. "'What do you mean by that?' I demanded. "'What I say,' replied the man at the next table. "I looked him full in the face. He was old and bald and appeared weak-minded. His age protected his impudence. I turned my back on him. Then my eyes fell on the cat again. She was still gazing earnestly at me. "Disgusted that she should take such pointed public notice of me, I wondered whether other people saw it; I wondered whether there was anything peculiar in my own personal appearance. How hard the creature stared! It was most embarrassing. "'What has got into that cat?' I thought. 'It's sheer impudence. It's an intrusion, and I won't stand it!' The cat did not move. I tried to stare her out of countenance. It was useless. There was aggressive inquiry in her yellow eyes. A sensation of uneasiness began to steal over me--a sensation of embarrassment not unmixed with awe. All cats looked alike to me, and yet there was something about this one that bothered me--something that I could not explain to myself, but which began to occupy me. "She looked familiar--this Antwerp cat. An odd sense of having seen her before, of having been well acquainted with her in former years, slowly settled in my mind, and, although I could never remember the time when I had not detested cats, I was almost convinced that my relations with this Antwerp tabby had once been intimate if not cordial. I looked more closely at the animal. Then an idea struck me--an idea which persisted and took definite shape in spite of me. I strove to escape from it, to evade it, to stifle and smother it; an inward struggle ensued which brought the perspiration in beads upon my cheeks--a struggle short, sharp, decisive. It was useless--useless to try to put it from me--this idea so wretchedly bizarre, so grotesque and fantastic, so utterly inane--it was useless to deny that the cat bore a distinct resemblance to my great-aunt! "I gazed at her in horror. What enormous eyes the creature had! "'Blood is thicker than water,' said the man at the next table.