Bill Craig was greatly excited. He could hardly wait for the morrow, when his wife took off on her travels. Deep inside him, there was a great longing, a burning that had to be satisfied. The only one to satisfy it was Molly!

The young seaman went along the docks in a jaunty manner, a merry tune on his lips, and a crafty gleam in his eye. He felt good. The money put up by Marlow Tanner would shortly be sitting in the pocket of this here seaman. Rightly so, he prided himself, rightly so! Because wasn’t he the most diligent and observant fellow? Hadn’t he just seen with his own eyes the very merchandise that Marlow Tanner wanted? Oh, yes! At first light, he would be on his way to carry the good news and to lay his claim to that there money. But for now, he had a crippling thirst on him, and a need to celebrate. A few jugs of ale and a floozy for the night seemed like a just reward for the minute. Tomorrow would be here all too soon, but tonight was Saturday. A night for making merry, and letting tomorrow look after itself!

Molly sat on the edge of her bunk. Through the grimy window panes she watched the dark, lazy clouds against a silver-shot sky. Every bone in her body ached and she longed for sleep. But sleep would not come. Her mind was in turmoil. So many things came to haunt her. Disturbing images had kept her wide awake when she might have enjoyed the rest which she had honestly earned.

All the night long, Molly had softly paced the room, pausing only to gaze at her sleeping children and occasionally to glance out of the window. Dawn would soon be breaking. Outside, there was no breeze nor movement of any kind. It was as though life had run out of time and the earth had died. There was a terrible, sad atmosphere that shocked Molly, and made her wonder at it.

But then she was made to look closer. It was not the night, nor was it the earth that had died; they were merely slumbering. No. The sadness and the awful loneliness were not out there beyond this room. They were in here, in the room itself, and in Molly’s own unhappy heart. All that had died was the hope she had fought to keep alive: that faint hope which had kept her going, kept her searching for her man. It had always been a delicate thing, but now, that tiny flame of hope had fluttered its last. Jack was not here. He was no place where she had been, and now a cruel and shattering reality came to her like a savage blow. It sent her heart reeling, for after all this time Molly finally admitted to herself that, somehow, somewhere along the way she had lost that which had been very precious to her. The awful realization had crept up on her without her knowing, and now it shone through her thoughts like a blazing beacon. She did not love Jack any more. She did not love Jack any more!