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I hobbled after the stones, and fell to my knees in the dust, scrabbling after them, moaning and crying aloud. - (Nomads of Gor, Chapter 21, Sentence #67)

To my chagrin I was not admitted into the compound, but my pitiful stock of almost worthless stones was examined outside the gate by a steward in the company of two armed warriors. It took him only a few moments to discover the value of the stones and, when he did, with a cry of disgust, he hurled them away from the gate into the dust, and the two warriors, while I pretended fright and pain, belabored me with the hilts of their weapons. "Be gone, Fool!" they snarled. I hobbled after the stones, and fell to my knees in the dust, scrabbling after them, moaning and crying aloud. I heard the guards laugh. I had just picked up the last stone and tucked it back in my pouch and was about to rise from my knees when I found myself staring at the high, heavy sandals, almost boots, of a warrior. "Mercy, Master," I whined. - (Nomads of Gor)