But then women are unreasonable in their opinions, as Giorgio used to remark calmly on fitting occasions.
On this occasion, with his gun held at ready before him, he stooped down to his wife's head, and, keeping his eyes steadfastly on the barricaded door, he breathed out into her ear that Nostromo would have been powerless to help.

What could two men shut up in a house do against twenty or more bent upon setting fire to the roof?
Gian' Battista was thinking of the casa all the time, he was sure.
"He think of the casa! He!" gasped Signora Viola, crazily.

She struck her breast with her open hands.

"I know him.

He thinks of nobody but himself." A discharge of firearms near by made her throw her head back and close her eyes.