[ while newt seems to spaz out on the prospect of pinpointing kovacs' date for the night, the other man barely reacts to the question, more concerned with patting his pockets to once again resort to his source of easing away from any frustrated stress, seeking out a typical carton of cigarettes. ]

Never got her name.

[ ah, there it is. cigarette planted between this lips, he seeks out his matches next. ]

Promised me no conversation and the most skillful hands this side of Scorpion's Bend and I should've known it was too good of a deal.