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I then held my left hand open, at my left hip. She struggled to her feet and, bending over, placed her head at my left hip, and I fastened my hand firmly, deeply, in that pelt, by means of which such a lovely beast may be easily, conveniently, and efficiently guided and controlled. The gong, sharply, rang again. "The slave! Where is the slave?" demanded Glaukos, the voice angry, half muffled, coming from behind the door. Thurnock, Clitus, and I, then, the slave beside me, conducted, bent over in leading position, made our way toward the door from behind which had come the sound of the gong and the voice of Glaukos, proprietor of the tavern, The Living Island. "It is very loud, is it not," had asked Thurnock, "the music, the cheering, and all?" "Quite," I had said, being shoved about somewhat, as a fellow squeezed by, intent on getting more to the front of the crowd. "Too noisy," said Thurnock. - (Avengers of Gor, Chapter )