Making herself heard for the first time Dona Rita murmured without moving that she had made arrangements with the police to have it properly watched.

And I was enchanted by the almost imperceptible play of her lips.
But the anxious creature was not reassured.

He pointed out that things had been stolen out of the Louvre, which was, he dared say, even better watched.

And there was that marvellous cabinet on the landing, black lacquer with silver herons, which alone would repay a couple of burglars.
A wheelbarrow, some old sacking, and they could trundle it off under people's noses.
"Have you thought it all out ?" she asked in a cold whisper, while we three sat smoking to give ourselves a countenance (it was certainly no enjoyment) and wondering what we would hear next.
No, he had not.

But he confessed that for years and years he had been in love with that cabinet.