Jack returned to his box and finally slipped into sleep. Dreams covered him. Dreams of not being able to escape, trapped by clocks and watches, ticking loudly and quickly. Strange dreams.
The morning came, and with it Little Mary, shaking him from his sleep. "Come on Jack", she whispered in her breathless squeaky voice, "time to go to the garden. Nanny's cooking breakfast and we'll be in deep, dark trouble if we are late".