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How she is pressed! How all hang upon her superior, sly glances, her least, carefully rationed word! How pleasant it is sometimes to frustrate them, and see them pout and squirm in ignorance, tears in their eyes. - (Swordsmen of Gor, Chapter 29, Sentence #78)

"Forgive me, Master!" It is well known hat kajirae are amongst the most curious of beasts. How eager they are to be informed, to be brought up to date, to learn the latest! They will beg, wheedle, scratch, and scramble for the tiniest particle of news. The girl who knows something the others do not is as a Ubara in the slave quarters. How she is pressed! How all hang upon her superior, sly glances, her least, carefully rationed word! How pleasant it is sometimes to frustrate them, and see them pout and squirm in ignorance, tears in their eyes. In this way, too, of course, they may be reminded that they are no more than slaves. We came then, at last, to an opening in the trees, and stood upon a rise, from which a road led gently downward through the valley toward the river. There were more than four or five hundred men there, come forward from the column. - (Swordsmen of Gor)