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While she rose up, and dressed, I went to a narrow window in the wall, which looked out, onto the night, and the palace courtyard. - (Rebels of Gor, Chapter 13, Sentence #461)

Tyrtaios, as I understood him, a dark realist, as careful and prudential as a knife, was not likely to be the victim of any superstition, let alone that of an alien culture. Yet he had spoken as though this fiction might have had ribs of iron and claws of steel, might be as real as ore and fire. "Clothe yourself," I said to the girl. While she rose up, and dressed, I went to a narrow window in the wall, which looked out, onto the night, and the palace courtyard. In the light of the yellow moon, I could see guards below. The window was barred. "It seems I am a prisoner," I had said to one of the two lovely, briefly tunicked Pani slave girls who had earlier attended on me. - (Rebels of Gor)