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"On a bar stool a woman in a black tailor-made ... was sitting alone with a cigarette in a long jade holder. She had that fine-drawn intense look that is sometimes neurotic, sometimes sex-hungry, and sometimes just the result of drastic dieting," notes Marlowe before ordering a Gimlet. "So few people drink them around here ... Gimlets, I mean," the woman whispers to Marlowe. "A fellow taught me to like them," he replies, before the bartender sets the drink in front of him. "With the lime juice it has a sort of pale greenish yellowish misty look. I tasted it. It was both sweet and sharp at the same time. The woman in black watched me. Then she lifted her own glass towards me. We both drank. Then I knew hers was the same drink."