feeling the restrictions of her punishment, pacing and now she begins to wail "this lonely life". few adult women have sung with such appropriate passion out of need and loss, aloneness and confusion. the song finishes. jeannie sits huddled.
devoid of anger. sympathy so pure that it wrenches. she starts to move towards the bathroom. her voice sweet.
seen from a distance--her father behind her. in the foreground, the mass of workers on the stage, it is, in effect, her pov, even though she is in the extreme background of the shot. we move closer to jeannie and her father--even a bit behind them. jeannie is scared.
and jeannie begins to falter.  she must somehow cry at this moment.  she looks outward for help.
she moves to her dressing table--sits, looks in the mirror and giggles uncontrollably.
as her father urges her into the flow. she passes millie, who is dancing with the boy who held jeannie's hand.