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Perhaps, waiting, he had wandered into the garden, to pass the time. - (Witness of Gor, Chapter 7, Sentence #432)

But he was not of the house, or of the staff, or the guards, I was sure of that. How, thusly, without the knowledge of the house, without the keys, the passwords, perhaps even friends within, could he hope to get me over the wall, or through the gate, past the guards? How could he even hope to ascend the wall himself, with the incurved knives at the summit? But he had said he was known in the house. Could that be true? If that were so, then I supposed that he might, quite unlike one such as I, simply take his leave. Perhaps, waiting, he had wandered into the garden, to pass the time. He might then have seen me by the wall, and, perhaps taken with my beauty, as some men were, decided, on a whim, to accost and enjoy me. How hateful he was! But now I was his. Helplessly! He had brought me to this point. - (Witness of Gor)