Not every man wants a pliant wife, Young Tim had said to me. Rose Morrissey Hannah wasn’t one to sit by the hearth, but neither was she an embarrassment to her husband. Her politics were still fierce enough, but she banked the fires. At the end of the day, perhaps Rose came to realize, looking toward the future, that the heirs of Stalin, and those of that savage Irish ancient, John Devoy, faced in the wrong direction.
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