"But don't you think it is unfair to keep me there all of my life, just so that you can enjoy one meal?"

"You will just have to face up to it. I am not going to allow you any way out of this. It will not be frightening for me, when I am eating you. I am looking forward to it. You will have to be brave. Now if you wake up before I do, have a look at me while I am asleep, so that you can prepare yourself to be kept inside me."

"Why should you have so much fun eating me, while I go through such terror?"

"For one thing, I am big enough to eat you, and for another, you know that my stomach will be soft and comfortable."

"And impossible to get out of."

"Timothy, I gave you lunch, washed you with my tongue and let you sleep here this afternoon. Don't I deserve a special reward?"

"I am very grateful, and I would do anything for you except being your dinner."

"You will have to let me eat you for my dinner, little Timothy. I will not accept any other reward for all the kindness that I have shown you. I am not going to listen to any more of your objections. Go to sleep and think of yourself as a piece of food for me to enjoy eating. You will understand the situation much better, if you do that, little Timothy."

For the next few minutes she noticed a real state of melancholy in him. She could see the complete absence of hope in his demeanour now. She felt an extra comfort inside, knowing that he had reached this complete and total focus on the inviolate future he was facing.

She soon fell asleep.

So did Timothy.

He awoke in the latter half of the afternoon to see that Miss Balfour was still asleep, but he was in desperate need of a way to escape from her.

He went downstairs and out of the dolls house. He found a small nail file on the table beside a wall. He lifted it, jumped to Miss Balfour's pillow and crept over to a part of her hair that was not held in place and weighted down by her sleeping head. He filed off a few strands, which were as dense as rope to him, snuck over to the bedpost, tied Miss Balfour's hair strands to the post and slid down them to the floor, only to feel her hand clasping him from behind. She had awoken and reached down for him.

He was soon surrounded by her giant fingers and unable to see out of her closed hand.

When he had been released by her fingers, he instantly fell into some sticky substance, and heard a door close. He struggled to the surface and looked around. He seemed to be in a dark room. However, there was light behind him. He turned around, and was shocked to find himself in a piece of pavlova warming up in an oven which must have been turned down low so as not to burn him.