The stagger of footsteps;_ OLIVIA _stands in the doorway to the
sun-room. She has been running through the forest; her clothes are
wild, her hair has fallen about her shoulders, and she is no longer
wearing her spectacles. She looks nearly beautiful. Her manner is
quiet, almost dazed. He lowers the chair slowly and sits on the other
side of the table. A pause._

OLIVIA: I've never seen a dead body before.... I climbed through the
window and nearly fell over it. Like a sack of potatoes, or something.
I thought it was, at first.... And that's murder.

_As he looks up at her._

But it's so ordinary.... I came back ...

_As he lights his cigarette._

... expecting ... ha (_laughing hysterically_) ... I don't know
... and here I find you, smoking a cigarette ... you might have been
tidying the room for the night. It's so ... ordinary.... (_After a
pause, with a cry_) Why don't you _say_ something!

DAN: I thought you were goin' to stay the night at that feller's.

OLIVIA: I was.

DAN: What d'you come back for?

OLIVIA (_the words pouring out_): To find you out. You've kept me