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I heard, too, the shrill screaming of a woman's voice. It had a very ugly sound. I could not make out all she was saying but its import was surely uncomplimentary. Among other things she called us "she-sleen" and "she-urts". I did not know what a sleen might be, but I did know what an urt was. When we had begun our training, shortly after we had been branded and collared, we had been kept in a lower level of the house, in a dank, dark, cold, musty area, seeming to consist largely of narrow corridors and cells, an area of damp, cold stone walls, of shadows and pools of water, chained in a large, common cell. In this cell we bedded on damp straw, cast over the stone. - (Dancer of Gor)