On p. 163, Wing Alak visits Yamen's tavern:
photoelectric doors;
crowded;
the sweepings of space;
many nonhumans from remote planets;
dim light;
smoke;
live show;
tiny stage;
small table;
dark corner;
coin into vendor for warm, thin beer from chute;
approached by a slithering, dragonlike, reptilian, drug-peddling Rassalan with "beadlly" (?) eyes, addicted to acrid, poisonous vurzin.
Some of Poul Anderson's taverns are underworld joints and this is.

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