Joe Watson feverishly paced the pavement at the front of his mother’s house, now and again leaning on the street lamp and allowing his senses to imagine all manner of secret fancies. Only a short while ago he had returned home delightfully intoxicated and boldly entertaining the prospect that not only would he make a play for Molly, but that when he did, that young woman would be so flattered she would eagerly fall into his arms, ready and willing to please him in any way he chose.

Now though, the excited fellow had been shocked almost into sobriety, and made to see that there was more to Molly than he had at first imagined. The conversation he had secretly ‘overheard’ between his mother and her young lodger had certainly given him food for thought. From all that had been disclosed, one article in particular stood out bold in his mind – for some reason which he had not quite grasped, Molly was a fugitive! And worse still, it was the Justice Crowther whom she’d come up against!

‘God Almighty,’ Joe uttered, ‘of all the enemies she could have been dealt, it seems she’s drawn the worst.’ Suddenly he was made to weigh his fancy for Molly against his fear of the most hated and reviled fiend ever set on this earth. ‘Do I want Molly so much that I’d take on her enemies an’ all?’ he asked himself. And back came his own answer – ‘Do I bloody hell as like!’

There was no doubting that Joe Watson had a very real and very urgent hankering for the lovely, desirable Molly, who – though presently a bit too thin and scruffy for his usual liking – had a certain presence and grace that only made her loveliness more magnificent. Yes, he wanted her right enough, he decided. But whereas just over an hour ago he would have taken her with all her needs and troubles – three kids an’ all – now it was a different tale altogether. There wasn’t a woman alive who could be worth getting tangled up with the Justice for. Not even the lovely Molly! Oh, but that wasn’t to say that he couldn’t strike up a little fun and frolics with her, now was it, eh? he asked himself. And again, back came his own answer. ‘O’ course not! It’s obvious the wandering Jack ain’t fulfilling his manly duties, so like as not Molly would welcome this fine fellow as a substitute.’

Joe Watson had always prided himself on being a quiet favourite with the women. It was very plain to him that Molly was first and foremost a woman. Therefore, like all women, she had natural desires. That’s where he came in – to satisfy those desires, and in the process, to fulfil his own deep-down needs. Needs that were getting more urgent by the minute, and which, even with the name of Justice Crowther still buzzing in his mind, gave him the courage to softly push home his key in the front-door lock, quietly let himself in and, on tiptoe, creep along the passage, then through the living quarters out to the scullery steps… where he knew instinctively Molly would be sitting alone, counting the stars and thinking about things that were private and precious to her.