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"music "

Book 4. (1 results) Nomads of Gor (Individual Quote)

To the music, beautifully, it seemed the frightened figure ran first here and then there, occasionally avoiding imaginary objects or throwing up her arms, ran as though through the crowds of a burning city—alone, yet somehow suggesting the presence about her of hunted others. - (Nomads of Gor, Chapter 12, Sentence #393)
Chapter # Sentence # Quote
12 393 To the music, beautifully, it seemed the frightened figure ran first here and then there, occasionally avoiding imaginary objects or throwing up her arms, ran as though through the crowds of a burning city—alone, yet somehow suggesting the presence about her of hunted others.

Book 4. (7 results) Nomads of Gor (Context Quote)

Chapter # Sentence # Quote
12 390 The figure of the woman, swathed in black, heavily veiled, descended the steps of the slave wagon.
12 391 Once at the foot of the stairs she stopped and stood for a long moment.
12 392 Then the musicians began, the drums first, a rhythm of heartbeat and flight.
12 393 To the music, beautifully, it seemed the frightened figure ran first here and then there, occasionally avoiding imaginary objects or throwing up her arms, ran as though through the crowds of a burning city—alone, yet somehow suggesting the presence about her of hunted others.
12 394 Now, in the background, scarcely to be seen, was the figure of a warrior in scarlet cape.
12 395 He, too, in his way, though hardly seeming to move, approached, and it seemed that wherever the girl might flee there was found the warrior.
12 396 And then at last his hand was upon her shoulder and she threw back her head and lifted her hands and it seemed her entire body was wretchedness and despair.
The figure of the woman, swathed in black, heavily veiled, descended the steps of the slave wagon. Once at the foot of the stairs she stopped and stood for a long moment. Then the musicians began, the drums first, a rhythm of heartbeat and flight. To the music, beautifully, it seemed the frightened figure ran first here and then there, occasionally avoiding imaginary objects or throwing up her arms, ran as though through the crowds of a burning city—alone, yet somehow suggesting the presence about her of hunted others. Now, in the background, scarcely to be seen, was the figure of a warrior in scarlet cape. He, too, in his way, though hardly seeming to move, approached, and it seemed that wherever the girl might flee there was found the warrior. And then at last his hand was upon her shoulder and she threw back her head and lifted her hands and it seemed her entire body was wretchedness and despair. - (Nomads of Gor, Chapter 12)