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It was but one blanket, but it was welcome. - (Conspirators of Gor, Chapter 16, Sentence #200)

Too, the shifting of the earth, the occasional softening of the soil by rain, differences in weathering, various temperature changes, and such things, may produce a shifting of one stone in relation to another. I crawled forward, to the back of the wagon box, the chain sliding along the wooden floor, along the metal bar. I seized the blanket there and spread it beneath me. It was but one blanket, but it was welcome. I did not take it to the rear of the wagon, as it seemed clear its placement was meant to bring me, if I wished its comfort, to the front of the wagon. I was then close enough that he might turn and touch me, but he did not do so. Was I not smooth, and attractive? Why did he not reach back and touch me? What difference would it make? Was I not a slave? "A slave is grateful for the blanket," I said. - (Conspirators of Gor)