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"I must fetch more, Master!" cried Ellen, and, turning about, seemed to hurry toward the vat of ka-la-na, that the vessel of her service might be replenished. - (Prize of Gor, Chapter 22, Sentence #113)

She cannot be ignorant. She must know the dangers of this camp for free women, a festival camp where hundreds of slaves are to serve, and be danced, and vended! No, thought Ellen, I must warn her. "Wine!" called a man. "I must fetch more, Master!" cried Ellen, and, turning about, seemed to hurry toward the vat of ka-la-na, that the vessel of her service might be replenished. But, in a moment, she had turned aside, and back, determined to kneel before the free woman and, risking the blows of masters, and risking punishment for speaking without permission, warn the cruel, harsh mistress of the risks she might be running. Soon Ellen had returned to the fire near which the free woman had been sitting. The stool on which she had been sitting was overturned. - (Prize of Gor)