For a while the three voices talking could be heard. But they gradually grew quiet and at last silence arrived. Uwawawa, was Her Majesty crushed? Or was she put to sleep? The light was dropped and it grew dim.
Footsteps of someone standing from a seat and walking to me. Not two, one. Yes, footsteps I have heard well, those are Her Majesty's footsteps. They come to the bed and the footsteps stop. Then she sets a hand on my chest and shakes,
"Ufufu, Robbie, you are awake, yes? Pretending to sleep will not work."
