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I slipped, unnoticed by the man in the palanquin and his servants, behind the blond-haired girl, she who had told me she had once been free, who was the last in the right-hand coffle, that lovely string of chained women. - (Fighting Slave of Gor, Chapter 13, Sentence #749)

I stood, bloody, unsteadily, in the street. The crowd dissipated. Suddenly, angrily, I ran after the departing palanquin, that behind which the exquisite, dark-haired girl, she to whom I had been earlier speaking, was one of the chained, displayed beauties. I slipped, unnoticed by the man in the palanquin and his servants, behind the blond-haired girl, she who had told me she had once been free, who was the last in the right-hand coffle, that lovely string of chained women. My hand closed on the back of the blond girl's neck. She gasped, startled. "Who is your master?" I asked. - (Fighting Slave of Gor)