He noticed that his cigar had gone out and lit it again.

His cigar went out, and he continued to gaze silently and curiously.

"Either that cigar of yours goes overboard, or I do!"

The smoke had stopped, but cigars went out, they didn't burn down.

And cigars, with any luck, were going to be Habanas,anyhow.

But no cigar is going to smooth things over right now.

My companion had fallen silent, pondering something, letting his cigar go gray.

"When the cigars went out, so did the Chiefs," one officer recalled.

When the cigar was going good and hot he pointed its red end at me.

When the cigar "went off", all four guards drew their guns and aimed at Hemingway.