He could have easily forced it, but preferred a more expeditious mode of reaching the roof which suggested itself to him. She opened the window, for the night was mild, and sat on the floor with her chin resting upon the window-sill. She smiled mechanically at the audience, holding her violin limply, feeling the hot lights on her made-up face. “I loathe afternoon concerts, and——” She was really like her sister he thought, impressed for a moment by the soft brilliancy of her smile. I want my freedom.
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