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"To see her walk," remarked Kamchak, rather loudly, "one would hardly suspect that she wears the collar of a slave". - (Nomads of Gor, Chapter 9, Sentence #485)

"All right," said Saphrar, his eyes cast down, as though making a decision against his better judgment, "I will permit my ward, the Lady Aphris of Turia, to stand at the stake in Love War". There was a cry of delight from the crowd, confident now that the Tuchuk sleen would be fittingly punished for his bold use of the richest daughter of Turia. "Thank you, my guardian," said Aphris of Turia, and with one last vicious look at Kamchak threw back her head and with a swirl of her white gown, bordered with gold, walked regally from between the tables. "To see her walk," remarked Kamchak, rather loudly, "one would hardly suspect that she wears the collar of a slave". Aphris spun to face him, her right fist clenched, her left hand muffling her veil about her face, her eyes flashing. The circle of steel gleamed on the silk at her throat. "I meant only, little Aphris," said Kamchak, "—that you wear your collar well". - (Nomads of Gor)