It's not as if it's a grand affair, she told herself angrily, but logic could not break the perverse functioning of her subconscious. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright and hard. They can't still be thinking I'm Karl's victim, not after this… No. Was I obliged to like her, just because I'm related to her? The feeling was mutual.
Father was in it. demn me… The room was light and warm, a fire crackling in the red marble fireplace. Again she related the conversation, tactfully leaving out any reference to Charlotte. Charlotte couldn't say why one conversation with Karl had made such a difference to her, yet it had.
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