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Her eyes were wild with fury and tears. - (Nomads of Gor, Chapter 9, Sentence #433)

And none rushed upon him, for in his hand, and he was Tuchuk, there gleamed the quiva. "Slay him!" screamed Aphris of Turia, "Slay him!" "Replace your veil," repeated Saphrar to the girl. "Have you no shame?" The girl attempted to rearrange the folds of the veil, but could only hold it before her face, for Kamchak had ripped away the pins by which it was customarily fastened. Her eyes were wild with fury and tears. He, a Tuchuk, had looked upon her face. I was pleased, though I would not have admitted it, at Kamchak's boldness, for it was a face for which a man might risk much, even death in the torture dungeons of Turia, utterly beautiful though now, of course, transformed with rage, far more beautiful than had been that of the most beautiful of the slave girls who had served us or given us of the beauty of their dances. "You recall, of course," Kamchak was saying, "that I am an ambassador of the Wagon Peoples and am entitled to the courtesies of your city". - (Nomads of Gor)