GarGar stood outside Pirouette’s antechamber with his black, tricornered hat in hand. He’d been standing there for some time. He glanced at his new, gold fob watch, on its golden chain, and sighed. “Two hours,” he muttered to himself. The chamberlain standing guard at her door glanced at GarGar for just a second, rolled his eyes and then returned his gaze into blank space. “It’s been two hours!” He said, more loudly this time. “Go back and tell her that I won’t stand here one second longer! Tell her I’ve left!” But he didn’t leave. He just stood there. The chamberlain turned, opened the door and went back into Pirouette’s antechamber.
“He says he’s leaving!” Shouted the chamberlain at Pirouette’s bedroom door. Inside, the Princess sat on her bed with her official dresser and friend, Abigail Hoffenhoff. “Let him go!” Replied Abigail for her mistress.
“Not so fast, Abby,” said Pirouette softly. “I suppose I can’t stay angry with le comte forever. I guess it is better that we should be friends.” Then more loudly, “Tell him he can wait in the antechamber!” She called to the chamberlain.