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Angrily I brushed her hand from my shoulder. - (Raiders of Gor, Chapter 15, Sentence #314)

And, as the torches burned lower in the wall racks, the singer continued to sing, and sang of gray Pa-Kur, Master of the Assassins, leader of the hordes that fell on Ar after the theft of her Home Stone; and he sang, too, of banners and black helmets, of upraised standards, of the sun flashing on the lifted blades of spears, of high siege towers and deeds, of catapults of Ka-la-na and tem-wood, of the thunder of war tharlarion and the beatings of drums and the roars of trumpets, the clash of arms and the cries of men; and he sang, too, of the love of men for their city, and, foolishly, knowing so little of men, he sang, too, the bravery of men, and their loyalties and their courage; and he sang then, too, of duels; of duels fought even on the walls of Ar herself, even at the great gate; and of tarnsmen locked in duels to the death over the spires of Ar; and of yet another duel, one fought on the height of Ar's Cylinder of Justice, between Pa-Kur, and he, in the song, called Tarl of Bristol. "Why does my Ubar weep?" asked Telima. "Be silent, Slave," said I. Angrily I brushed her hand from my shoulder. She drew back her hand swiftly, as though she had not known it had lain there. The singer had now finished his song. "Singer," called I to him, "is there truly a man such as Tarl of Bristol?" The singer turned his head to me, puzzled. - (Raiders of Gor)