A woman can be described in terms of anatomical rhapsody. Or one may dwell endlessly upon sweetness of disposition, upon quaint and unique charms of personality. A potential lover may fashion poetic conceits upon the lilting moonbeam qualities in her voice, compare her skin to flower-petals, her eyes to gemfires, liken the graceful movements of limbs and body to the liquid symphonies of swirling water. Or these matters may be left wholly to the imagination and the girl described obliquely by reference to her effect upon the male population in her immediate vicinity. The effect was jarring enough. "Go away!" she said inhospitably. She leaned further through the opening to snarl fluent imprecations in Venusian billingsgate at the nocturnal callers. Pao Chung braved the storm. "Shut up!" he said evenly. Teucrete's eyes fixed on him savagely, and she took a sharp breath with the obvious intention of renewing her tirade. Then she thought better of it and restrained her outrage long enough to throw a taunt in his face. "Is Pao Chung so desperate for money that he comes now in the middle of the night? You're two days early for your payment. Come back then." "Call your father," ordered the Venusian. "Khaljean is not here. He's ... hunting. Come back after noon tomorrow if you must see him." The head withdrew inside. The gate crashed shut. Bolts grated. "Shall I fly over the stockade and throttle her?" asked Angel, rippling his wings. Pao Chung hammered the gate again. As before, the racketing animal chorus repeated the sound, with variations. Pao Chung kept pounding until the gate was opened again. This time the head did not appear, but a wiry female voice addressed them from the inside darkness. "Still here? The police must be hunting you." "They are." "Good! I will point you out and stay to watch the kill." Pao Chung chuckled evilly. "Do that. The record of Khaljean's background and illegal activities is in my safe. My will provides for publication of all such papers upon my death." The voice hesitated. "It might be worth humiliation or disgrace to be rid of you permanently." "It might," agreed Pao Chung. "Many people have thought so. I wonder if Khaljean will be one of them." With a scrape of bare metal, bolts retreated into sockets and the chain was removed. Crack widened enough to permit entrance. "Come in, then," Teucrete said wearily. "I will let my father decide when he returns. For tonight, you can stay. But I won't answer for your safety. The animals are roused and nervous. I am not sure I can control them with strangers here." * * * * * Beastly cacophonies greeted the entrance of the fugitives. An atmosphere of alien and indescribable uneasiness pervaded the vast compound with its rows and piled banks of cages. The atmosphere was the emotion of night-hauntings, and the sound was its voice.