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She was sure he had, from the first glance. But then he had looked upon her as though she might be a complete novelty to him, an astonishment to him, a totally unknown, lovely slave. Perhaps he had thought he recognized her, and had, but then, later, thought that he had been mistaken, that the slave he saw could not possibly be she for whom he had originally taken her? Could I have changed so much, Ellen asked herself. Could I have become so different, and so completely a slave? "Ah, Ellen!" called the portly vat master, one of the caste of vintners. "One can scarcely scrape the bottom of the vat! These loafing tarsks drink like desert kaiila! Hurry to the sutlers! Tell them to trundle a new cask to the vat of Callimachus!" Ellen stood there, clutching her pitcher. She regarded the vintner with dismay. She did not want to make her way to the sutlers for that way took her into the darkness, and into the tented areas, closer to the walls of the city. - (Prize of Gor, Chapter )