Rose struck another match and puffed on her husband’s old pipe. She had kept the pipe, as well as a long pinewood crate of tools, and a few pairs of warm woolen stockings she had knitted for Joe, but those few things were all she had left of him. Still, she did not feel the slightest bit sad as she rode away from the house and the farm. She had done her duty as Joe’s wife, but now he was buried and his name was buried with him. She would be Rose Nettles again for this third chapter of her life, and this time she would lead a life she chose for herself. She was no longer a schoolteacher who
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