If he resented the runaway's rebellion, he kept it to himself.
One evening when he seemed to be quiet and in pain, and was taking, Kenny noticed, the medicine that marked vague periods of crisis, Adam said pensively that he had not meant to impugn the Gaelic folk lore.
He liked it.

It reflected the warm, poetic soul of a people.

Brandy, alas, always made him quarrelsome and undependable of mood.

When the rain came again and he had to have a fire, they would have more tales of the Dark Rose Kenny loved.

Ireland, the Dark Rose! The name was like her history.