However, I would not change my mind. I told Renfield that he could not have a cat. When he heard this, Renfield said nothing. Instead he went and sat down in the corner, biting on his fingers. I shall see how he is behaving early tomorrow morning.

20 July I visited Renfield very early in the morning, before the attendant had been around to check on the patients. Renfield was up. He had saved his sugar, and was spreading it on the window. Clearly he was planning to start catching flies again, and beginning the job cheerfully. He was humming a tune and showed no signs of bad temper.

I looked around for his birds, but could not see them. So I asked him where they were. Without turning around, he replied that they had all flown away. There were a few feathers about the room and there was a drop of blood on his pillow. I said nothing, but went and found the attendant. I ordered him to tell me if he found anything strange about Renfield during the day.

11 am.The attendant has just been to see me. He said that Renfield has been very sick and has vomited up a whole lot of feathers. He said 'Doctor, I believe that he has eaten his birds; that he just took and ate them raw!'