"Not to us, it isn't. Nor to _Dernier Cri_ Garments. And there's no way it can be salvaged. But you just might be able to dispose of it on one of the more backward planets, and to this end Pastelsilks, Incorporated is willing to defer demanding restitution from your bonding company for six months." "Six months doesn't give me very much time to peddle a thousand bolts of invisible silk," Drake said. "_I consider it a very handsome_ gesture on our part. Of course if you're not interested, we can--" "I'll give it a try," Drake said. "Which of the backward planets would you recommend?" "Marie Elena, Dandelion, Little Sun, Dread--" "Is Azure a possibility?" "Why yes, Azure ought to provide a potential market. Its peoples are largely members of the peasantry, and it's conceivable that they might be attracted by bolts of colored mists and pastel nothingness." "Good," Drake said, getting to his feet. "I'll be on my way then." "One minute, Mr. Drake. Before you leave, I would like to make a suggestion with regard to your appearance." Drake frowned. "I don't see what I can do about it." "There are quite a number of things you can do about it. First of all, you can buy yourself some clothing that is _not_ translucent. Secondly, you can buy yourself a pair of skin-tight gloves. Thirdly, you can buy yourself a flesh-colored rubber mask that will align itself to your features. You can, in other words, cease being an apparition in the eyes of everyone you meet, and become a perfectly presentable silk salesman." Drake shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "I'm afraid I can't do any of those things," he said. "You can't? In the name of all that's wholesale, why not?" The word "penance" came into Drake's mind, but he ignored it. "I don't know," he said. He turned to go. "One more minute please, Mr. Drake. Will you enlighten me on a little matter before you leave?" "All right." Mr. Pompton cleared his throat. "Are you of Dutch descent by any chance?" "No," Drake said, and left. Azure