| Display title | Little Women/Source/Chapter 43 |
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| Page ID | 465098 |
| Page content language | en - English |
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| Page creator | SelfCloak (talk | contribs) |
| Date of page creation | 08:09, 8 May 2020 |
| Latest editor | SelfCloak (talk | contribs) |
| Date of latest edit | 13:15, 5 June 2020 |
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Description | Content |
Article description: (description)
This attribute controls the content of the description and og:description elements. | Jo was alone in the twilight, lying on the old sofa, looking at the
fire, and thinking. It was her favorite way of spending the hour of
dusk. No one disturbed her, and she used to lie there on Beth's little
red pillow, planning stories, dreaming dreams, or thinking tender
thoughts of the sister who never seemed far away. Her face looked
tired, grave, and rather sad, for tomorrow was her birthday, and she
was thinking how fast the years went by, how old she was getting, and
how little she seemed to have accomplished. Almost twenty-five, and
nothing to show for it. Jo was mistaken in that. There was a good
deal to show, and by-and-by she saw, and was grateful for it. |