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We talked of dozens of things, but neither of us mentioned his abrupt response to my greeting, nor did we speak of those mysterious months in which he had disappeared in the mountains of New Hampshire. - (Outlaw of Gor, Chapter 1, Sentence #59)

I smiled, too. "I could use one," I said. In a small bar in midtown Manhattan, little more than a doorway and a corridor, Tarl Cabot and I renewed our friendship. We talked of dozens of things, but neither of us mentioned his abrupt response to my greeting, nor did we speak of those mysterious months in which he had disappeared in the mountains of New Hampshire. In the ensuing months, my studies permitting, we saw one another fairly often. I seemed to answer a desperate need for human fellowship in that lonely man, and, for my part, I was more than happy to count myself his friend, unfortunately perhaps, his only friend. I felt that the time would come when Cabot would speak to me of the mountains but that he himself would have to choose that time. - (Outlaw of Gor)