" "'Tis he, by Heaven!" cried Jonathan; "this is lucky. Wood was unable to discover the figure of the widow, but he recognised her dry, hacking cough, and was about to call her down, if she could not find the key, as he imagined must be the case, when a loud noise was heard, as though a chest, or some weighty substance, had fallen upon the floor. Instead, she laughed, laughed with lips and eyes, laughed till the tears ran down her cheeks. He would never be able to figure out that: all these miles from Cuba, and you could get a perfecto for thirteen cents. She knew she was a monster and so did they.
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