She was pale and perilous and wonderful. Hair was shimmering bright cascade of spun platinum that fell in muted waves upon shoulders of naked beauty. Her eyes swam liquid silver with purple lights dwelling within, and her sullen red lips formed a heartshaped mouth, as if pouting. Heavy lids weighed down the eyes, and heavier barbaric bracelets weighted wrists and ankles. Twin breasts were mounds of soft, sun-dappled snow frosted with thin metal plates glowing with gemfire. Her simple garment was metalcloth, but so fine-spun and gauzelike that it seemed woven of moonlight. It seemed as un-needed as silver leafing draped upon some exotic flowering, but somehow enhanced the general effect. Her effect was overpowering. Denver followed her inside and followed her sweet, poisonous witchery as the girl glided gracefully along the aisle between ranked tables. As she entered the glittering room talk died for a moment of sheer admiration, then began in swift whispered accents. Men dreamed inaudibly and the women envied and hated her on sight. She seemed well-known to the place. Her name, Denver learned from the awed whispering, was--Darbor.... _The Pot o' Stars_ combined drinking, dancing and gambling. A few people even ate food. There was muffled gaiety, glitter of glass and chromium, and general bad taste in the decoration. The hostesses were dressed merely to tempt and tease the homesick and lovelorn prospectors and lure the better-paid mine-workers into a deadly proximity to alcohol and gambling devices. * * * * * The girl went ahead, and Denver followed, regretting his politeness when she beat him to the only unoccupied table. It had a big sign, _Reserved_, but she seemed waiting for no one, since she ordered a drink and merely played with it. She seemed wrapped in speculative contemplation of the other customers, as if estimating the possible profits to the house. On impulse, Denver edged to her table and stood looking down at her. Cold eyes, like amber ice, looked through him. "I know I look like a spacetramp," he observed. "But I'm not invisible. Mind if I pull up a cactus and squat?" Her eyes were chill calculation. "Suit yourself ... if you like to live dangerously." Denver laughed and sat down. "How important are you? Or is it something else? You don't look so deadly. I'll buy you a drink if you like. Or dance, if you're careless about toes." Her cold shrug stopped him. "Skip it," she snapped. "Buy yourself a drink if you can afford it. Then go." "What makes you rate a table to yourself? I could go now but I won't. The liquor here's probably poison but who pays for it makes no difference to me. Maybe you'd like to buy me a short snort. Or just snort at me again. On you, it looks good." The girl gazed at him languorously, puzzled. Then she let go with a laugh which sparkled like audible champagne.