FREDDY. Can you play her music, Ethel?

ETHEL. Play it? I could play it in my sleep. [Opens piano.] The
Sunrise Dance! [She sits and plays.] Listen!

[She plunges into the ecstatic part of the music. FREDDY leans by the
piano, watching her; she plays, more and more enthralled. The door
opens softly.]

[OCEANA enters; a girl of twenty-two, superbly formed, dark-skinned, a
picture of glowing health. She is clad in a short skirt and a rough
sailor's reefer with cap to match; underneath this a knitted garment,
tight-fitting and soft - no corsets. She carries two extremely heavy
suitcases, and with no apparent effort. She sets these down and stands
listening to the music, completely absorbed in it. There is the
faintest suggestion of the Sunrise Dance in her attitude.

[OCEANA is trusting, and yet with power of reserve. Throughout the
action, however vehemently she speaks, she seldom really grows angry;
she does not take the game seriously enough. On the other hand her
enjoyment, however keen, never becomes boisterous. Her actions proceed
from a continual overflow of animal health. She is like a little
child, in that she cannot remain physically still for very long at a
time; she moves about the room like an animal in a cage. Her speech
proceeds from an overwhelming interest in the truth, regardless of all
personality. She never conceals anything, and she never represses
anything.]

ETHEL. [Finishes the music, then turns, and leaps up.] Oceana!