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Ask AI3: What is was?
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He was well rid of her.
He certainly didn't want a wife who was fickle as Ann.
But all of this was rationalization.
The easiest thing would be to sell out to Al Budd and leave the country, but there was a stubborn streak in him that wouldn't allow it.
The best antidote for the bitterness and disappointment that poisoned him was hard work.
He found that if he was tired enough at night, he went to sleep simply because he was too exhausted to stay awake.
each day the hurt was a little duller, a little less poignant.
Because the summer was unusually dry and hot, the spring produced a smaller stream than in ordinary years.
The grass in the meadows came fast, now that the warm weather was here.
When they were closer and he saw that one was a woman, he was more puzzled than ever.
They were dirty, their clothes were torn, and the girl was so exhausted that she fell when she was still twenty feet from the front door.
Morgan hesitated, thinking that if this was a trick, it was a good one.
He didn't think it was possible for this couple to be pretending.
Her face was very thin, and burned by the sun until much of the skin was dead and peeling, the new skin under it red and angry.
Her blond hair was frowzy, her dress torn in several places, and her shoes were so completely worn out that they were practically no protection.
It must have hurt her even to walk, for the sole was completely off her left foot and Morgan saw that it was bruised and bleeding.
She was amazingly light, and so relaxed in his arms that he wasn't even sure she was conscious.
Any lingering suspicion that this was a trick Al Budd had thought up was dispelled.

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