(A pause, while Bitoy stands smiling at the room. Enter CANDIDA MARASIGAN at right, bearing a chocolate-pot on tray. Seeing Bitoy, she stops in the doorway and stares at him inquiringly. Candida is forty-two, and is dressed in the style of twenties. Her uncut hair, already graying, is coiled up and knotted in the old manner. Her body is straight, firm and spare. Not conventionally pretty, she can, however, when among friends, grow radiant with girlish charm and innocence. When among strangers, she is apt, from shyness, to assume the severe forbidding expression of the crabbed old maid. She is looking very severely now at the grinning young man on the stairway.)
BITOY: Hello, Candida.
(He waits, smiling, but as her face remains severe he walks towards her.)
Candida, surely you know me?
