Together they walked down the heavily carpeted stairs to the sitting room. The Madame was waiting. She was a large woman, rolling in creases of fat, and her pink hair was rough and clipped short. She had a pair of dimples in her cheeks and a single gold band around her right wrist. She was leaning against the piano. "Hurry now, girls, hurry right along," she said. More girls were entering the room; they spread out, sitting on the chairs, curling at the Madame's feet. Their eyes--amethyst, gray or golden--were on her face. Many had pink hair, others had tresses of purple or salmon. "Now, girls, I suppose you know there's an Earth ship in port?" The girls nodded. "So I expect we'll have visitors tonight. I want you to all look your very best." She smiled at them. "Anne, why don't you wear that low-cut, orange plastic with the spangles, and June, you the prim white one? You look like an angel in it." June smiled. "And Mary...?" "Yes, Miss Bestris?" "Mary. Did you buy that neo-nylon I told you about?" "No, Miss Bestris." "Mary, Mary, Mary. I just don't understand you at all." "I'm saving my money, Miss Bestris," Mary said intently. "Yes, dear, I know that. We're _all_ saving our money. But we simply must look presentable. We have a reputation to hold up." "Yes, Miss Bestris." "Then, Mary, dear, do--do, _please_, buy yourself something decent." "Yes, Miss Bestris. I will.... Tomorrow. Tomorrow morning, if I ..." [Illustration] "Child? If you what?" "Nothing, Miss Bestris." "Well. See that you get it tomorrow. If you don't, I'm afraid I'll have to take some of your money and get it for you." Mary looked down at the floor. The flaming glow of the hydrojet torches cast golden lights in her softly purple hair. "By the way, Mary. Is that your cake in the oven?" "Yes, Miss Bestris." The other girls snickered. "Let her alone," said the Madame. "If she wants to bake a cake, why shouldn't she?" No one answered. Miss Bestris went on around the room, discussing the girls' clothing, brushing this girl's hair, pinching that girl's cheek, chucking this one under the chin, smiling, frowning. Then finally she stepped back and nodded. "You all look quite good, I think. I can be proud of you. And now, I want you all to go to your rooms and make them extra attractive, and then try to get a little rest, so you'll all be especially beautiful when the boys come. Run along now." The girls filed out, and night continued to settle. After a while, her cigarette glowing in the gloom, the Madame waddled to her office. There three people were waiting for her. * * * * * The office was plain, businesslike, masculine; no lace, no ribbons, no perfume, only the crisp smell of new paper, the tangy odor of ink, the sweet smell of eraser fluid. When she came in the door the three people stood up.