Camilla crossed her legs, settling in. No telltale sound of nylon swish -- it was summer; she didn't wear stockings in summer. "Hmmm. You wouldn't say you've seen humans malfunction? I think I've seen it. When they become erratic, unhinged -- then they're most truly dangerous. Like rabid animals. At least robots can be reprogrammed." She ran a slender finger around the rim of her glass, which seemed to have lost its appeal as a drink, and had become simply something to occupy her hands.

"Social interaction is a tricky thing. The trick is not to find persons who won't judge you, but to find persons whose judgement matters at all. So many people simply aren't worth one's time." She smiled, then, that golden smile of hers.