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Summary
Pantalone wakes up to the disruptive sound of a metal beak pecking insistently at the his window. He dare not guess the time, but he's sure that the sun hasn't yet begun to rise from the distant east horizon, because none of Dottore's creations—especially not the man himself—have respect for the hours many keep for sleeping.
Or, Dottore, selfish creature that he is, covets Pantalone's time in every way he can have it.
