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At least, I thought, I have gone for forty-two. - (Conspirators of Gor, Chapter 8, Sentence #1306)

You are a free woman, and here, on this world, as I had not on Earth, I have begun to sense what that might be, its unchallenged force, and pride, and power, and here I am a slave, only that, and here, naked on an auction block, being sold, I have begun to sense what that might be. "Forty, forty," said the auctioneer. "Forty-two, no more? No more? No more? Done!" I realized I had been sold. At least, I thought, I have gone for forty-two. I dared not suppose it would have been forty-two pieces of gold, for I was new to my condition, had not been extensively trained, and had only recently been opened, in what I now had come to understand was the house of Tenalion, in Ar. I did not fear pregnancy, for early in my sojourn in the house I had been given Slave Wine. Understanding its nature, I had imbibed it willingly enough, as disgusting and foul a brew as it was. - (Conspirators of Gor)