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. The books would be soaked and ruined in the rain anyway through the thin skin of the pack. His pipe hung dead in his teeth, but the smoke was dense about him. Is all that folly done with—for ever?” Annabel shivered ever so slightly. "All's bowman, my covey. Can’t face a scandal. "And I," muttered Jack.
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