It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. Upon leaning back, he commented, “You look so sad. ‘All so long ago and my memory ain’t what it was. How Jonathan Wild's House was burnt down 458 XXXI. It is for that reason that this novel begins with her there, and neither earlier nor later, for it is the history of this crisis and its consequences that this novel has to tell.
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