1 July. His spiders are now as much a nuisance as his flies were before. So today I told Renfew that he must get rid of them. He looked very sad when I told him, so I said that he must get rid of some of the spiders, at least. He cheerfully agreed to this, and I gave him the same three days as before to get rid of his pets.

He really disgusted me while I was with him. A fly buzzed into the room, full of some sort of horrible food. Renfew caught the fly, and he seemed really pleased as he held it for a few moments between his finger and thumb. Then before I knew what he was going to do, he put it in his mouth and ate it. I scolded him for it, but he argued quietly that it was very good and very healthy. It was life, strong life, and it gave life to him. This gave me an idea, or better, the start of an idea. I must watch what he does with his spiders.

Renfew has evidently some deep problem in his mind. He keeps a little notebook in which he is always writing down something. Whole pages of the notebook are filled with of figures. These are generally single numbers added up together, and then the totals are all added together again. It is as as though he were preparing some account, as the auditors say.