It was evidently she who had flung up the window.

Her gloved hands leaned upon the woodwork on each side of it.

There was a certain constraint in her whole attitude, a tension that was subtly evident in every graceful line.

Her head was slightly bent as though she intently watched or listened for something.
Yet nothing could have been audible where she stood above the hubbub of music, laughter, and stamping feet that rose from below.

It filled the night with uproar.