“It was night outside long before the business was over, and nothing was to be seen but the dim eyes and the claws. I stopped the gas engine, felt for and stroked the beast, which was still insensible, and then, being tired, left it sleeping on the invisible pillow and went to bed. I found it hard to sleep. I lay awake thinking weak aimless stuff, going over the experiment over and over again, or dreaming feverishly of things growing misty and vanishing about me, until everything, the ground I stood on, vanished, and so I came to that sickly falling nightmare one gets. About two, the cat began meowing about the room. I tried to hush it by talking to it, and then I decided to turn it out. I remember the shock I had when striking a light⁠—there were just the round eyes shining green⁠—and nothing round them. I would have given it milk, but I hadn’t any. It wouldn’t be quiet, it just sat down and meowed at the door. I tried to catch it, with an idea of putting it out of the window, but it wouldn’t be caught, it vanished. Then it began meowing in different parts of the room. At last I opened the window and made a bustle. I suppose it went out at last. I never saw any more of it.