"I'm sorry," she tells him quickly. "Sometimes I talk too much. Say silly things. I don't mean anything by it." She looks down to the water, as if slowly swinging her legs back and forth underneath it requires a tremendous amount of focus. She's sure she had a sense of how to properly engage in conversation once upon a time.

"Some would say it's just a question of algorithms and computing capacity," she answers matter-of-factly. How much she believes that herself wavers. She knows what she'd like to think. But that doesn't make it true. "Although... those attitudes are on the cusp of change." Finally, she stops staring into the water. "May I ask what your where and when might be?"