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tediously familiar to me in my years of dealing, not only with

the native Indians and coolie Chinese, but with the colonial clerks and wives as well. I have also

frequently overheard Hardy and Simmons speak of Lang-more’s abstractions of chloral hydrate from the

dispensary. If they know of this, Hennessey certainly must.
    Oh, to be attempting such a work as mine, and to be sur-rounded by such human detritus!
    9 July
    8 flies, 3 spiders, 1 sparrow
    -9 flies ? spiders
    -12 spiders ? sparrows
    l0 July
    10 flies, 6 spiders, 2 sparrows
    -9 flies ? spiders
    -6 spiders ? sparrows
    ***
    Letter, R. M. Renfield to his wife
    11 July
    My dearest Catherine,
    A line in haste. This afternoon from my window I observed the execrable Hennessey walking along the

tree-lined avenue that leads to the high road, a most unaccustomed exercise for a man who raises sloth to

an art form. Following him with my gaze, I saw him stand talking by the high-road gate to a short, stout

gentleman in a green coat, who even at that distance was clearly recognizable as Lady Brough’s solicitor

Wormidge. Though the trees on the avenue prevented my seeing clearly, I thought they talked for some

little time, and that something-papers? money? letters?-was passed from hand to hand.
    The sight filled me with rage and despair. Not so much that I fear your discovery-indeed, the fact that

your mother seeks to trace you through me here reassures me that she has no clue con-cerning the false

identities and alternate bank accounts we es-tablished for your concealment-but because I understand

that it will be that much more difficult for you to contact me, much less see me.
    Still I remain, as Shakespeare says, “rich in hope.” Watch and wait, my darling-my darlings-and all

things will be made well.
    Forever your loving husband,
    R. M. R.
    ***
    Dr. Seward’s Diary (phonograph)*
    19 July
    We are progressing. My friend has now a whole colony of spar-rows, and his flies and spiders are

almost obliterated. When I came in, he ran to me and said he wanted to ask me a great favor . . . “A

kitten, a nice little, sleek playful kitten, that I can play with and teach, and feed-and feed-and feed!” I was

not unprepared for this request, for I had noticed how his pets went on increasing in size and vivacity, but

I did not care that his pretty family of tame sparrows should be wiped out in the same manner as the flies

and the spiders …
    10 p.m.-I have visited him again today and found him sit-ting in a corner brooding. When I came in, he

threw himself on his knees before me and implored me to let him have a cat; that his salvation depended

upon it. I was firm, however, and told him he could not have it.
    20 July
    Visited Renfield very early, before the attendant went his rounds. Found him up and humming a tune.

He was spreading out his sugar, which he had saved, in the window, and was manifestly beginning his

fly-catching again … I looked around for his birds, and not seeing them, asked him where they were. He

replied, without turning round, that they had all flown away. There were a few feathers about the room

and on his pillow a drop of blood.
    11 a.m.-The attendant has just been to me to say that Ren-field has been very sick and has disgorged a

whole lot of feath-ers. “My belief is, Doctor,” he said, “that he has eaten his birds, and that he just took

and ate them raw!”
    11 p.m.-I gave Renfield a strong opiate tonight, enough to make even him sleep …
    ***
    R.M.R.’s notes
    21 July
    HE IS COMING!!!
    ***
    Letter, R. M. Renfield to his wife
    21 July
    My darling Catherine,
    Something has happened which alters everything! How well I remember when you used to chide me

for my attitude of materialism-so strange in one who espouses the romantic ideals of Wagner, you said.

And I, in my blind superiority, would reply that romanticism, while all very well to inspire the heart and

the spirit, cannot put bread and butter on the table. Blind, blind,