"Every sharpshooter in Melaxis knows you," snapped the Venusian. "But do you know her?"

Ava laughed. Her voice was a pleasant contralto, throaty, suggestive as she said, "No, he doesn't know me. Yet. Which, darling, gives me an advantage, doesn't it?"

"Don't darling me—"

Ava's previous escort was a man of experience, possessor of a fresh hundred, and willing to play the game. His was the simple logic of the wolf; far better to have a woman you might be able to get than one who wanted someone else. Furthermore, he knew enough about human nature to toss a few cupfuls of oil on an already interesting fire. "See here," he said to Maculay, "what's the idea of making passes at my girl?"

Maculay laughed uproariously. He pushed his chair back and stood up, alert. "If she were your girl she'd not be asking me how 'we're' doing," he told the man.

Housemen started to move, slowly, towards the scene of imminent battle.

Ava's escort was willing to start a fire, but he was in no way interested in getting his face pushed in to keep it burning. Yet he could not back out without some show of determination. "I suppose she's your girl?" he asked superciliously.

The housemen relaxed. Badinage and billingsgate made noise but it ruined no furniture. The contestants were talking; the kind of fight the housemen were prepared to stop was the kind that took the: "Who—Me?" "Yes, You," Whack! formula which left one of the contenders ready to avenge the lump on his jaw, and willing to use the furniture to do the job.

Cliff relaxed against the card table. "Maybe she is."

"Maybe she isn't!"

"Maybe she'd like to be."

"No accounting for taste."

Ava turned upon her escort coldly. "You haven't any taste. How would you recognize it?"

The Venusian girl knew the situation all too well; she had been looking out for herself for a number of years, and this project included making the best of an opportunity. Her hand strayed behind Maculay.

Then the peacemakers saw something that they were entirely unprepared to stop. Ava Longacre took Maculay by one hand and half-hurled him away from the table, unbalancing him across one hip. Cliff staggered forward—to be caught and 

 Prev. P 26/45 next