Maybe on Saturday a little bit of a read?

She tied it nice and tight, secured with a half hitch, then got one leg over the sill, as Max had done. Well, not with the ease or speed, or grace, no fooling herself about that. Not too much later she was sitting astride the sill, her body with absolutely no idea of how to get fully outside and turned around. Meanwhile her new hip was not liking this position at all, fast on the way to finding it intolerable. With the rope around her waist what was the worst that could happen? It would be different, of course, if she’d tied the rope around her neck, but she’d been too savvy for that. Mrs. Plansky realized for the first time in her life that there was a strand of goofiness in her makeup, had been there from the start. Her mind was still occupied with this revelation as she got her inside leg over to the outside somehow or other and started down, a somewhat controlled fall partly broken by her hands trying to squeeze the rope as it slipped rapidly through them, by her low-heeled booties scrabbling for traction against the façade, and finally by Max, catching her in his arms. He was too much of a gentleman even to grunt.