安妮日记- 第27部分

yours；　anne　

thursday；　september　16；　1943

dearest　kitty；

relationships　here　in　the　annex　are　getting　worse　all　the　time。　we　dont　dare　open　our　mouths　at　mealtime　（except　to　slip　in　a　bite　of　food）；　because　no　matter　what　we　say；　someone　is　bound　to　resent　it　or　take　it　the　wrong　way。　mr。　voskuijl　occasionally　es　to　visit　us。　unfortunately；　hes　not　doing　very　well。　he　isnt　making　it　any　easier　for　his　family；　because　his　attitude　seems　to　be：　what　do　i　care；　im　going　to　die　anyway！　when　i　think　how　touchy　everyone　is　here；　i　can　just　imagine　what　it　must　be　like　at　the　voskuijls。

ive　been　taking　valerian　every　day　to　fight　the　anxiety　and　depression；　but　it　doesnt　stop　me　from　being　even　more　miserable　the　next　day。　a　good　hearty　laugh　would　help　better　than　ten　valerian　drops；　but　weve　almost　forgotten　how　to　laugh。

sometimes　im　afraid　my　face　is　going　to　sag　with　all　this　sorrow　and　that　my　mouth　is　going　to　permanently　droop　at　the　corners。　the　others　arent　doing　any　better。

everyone　here　is　dreading　the　great　terror　known　as　winter。

another　fact　that　doesnt　exactly　brighten　up　our　days　is　that　mr。　van　maaren；　the　man　who　works　in　the　warehouse；　is　getting　suspicious　about　the　annex。　a　person　with　any　brains　must　have　noticed　by　now　that　miep　sometimes　says　shes　going　to　the　lab；　bep　to　the　file　room　and　mr。　kleiman　to　the　opekta　supplies；　while　mr。

kugler　claims　the　annex　doesnt　belong　to　this　building　at　all；　but　to　the　one　next　door。

we　wouldnt　care　what　mr。　van　maaren　thought　of　the　situation　except　that　hes　known　to　be　unreliable　and　to　possess　a　high　degree　of　curiosity。　hes　not　one　who　can　be　put　off　with　a　flimsy　excuse。

one　day　mr。　kugler　wanted　to　be　extra　cautious；　so　at　twenty　past　twelve　he　put　on　his　coat　and　went　to　the　drugstore　around　the　corner。　less　than　five　minutes　later　he　was　back；　and　he　sneaked　up　the　stairs　like　a　thief　to　visit　us。　at　one…fifteen　he　started　to　leave；　but　bep　met　him　on　the　landing　and　warned　him　that　van　maaren　was

in　the　office。　mr。　kugler　did　an　about…face　and　stayed　with　us　until　one…thirty。　then　he　took　off　his　shoes　and　went　in　his　stockinged　feet　（despite　his　cold）　to　the　front　attic　and　down　the　other　stairway；　taking　one　step　at　a　time　to　avoid　the　creaks。　it　took　him　fifteen　minutes　to　negotiate　the　stairs；　but　he　wound　up　safely　in　the　office　after　having　entered　from　the　outside。

in　the　meantime；　bep　had　gotten　rid　of　van　maaren　and　e　to　get　mr。　kugler　from　the　annex。　but　hed　already　left　and　at　that　moment　was　still　tiptoeing　down　the　stairs。　what　must　the　passersby　have　thought　when　they　saw　the　manager　putting　on　his　shoes　outside？　hey；　you　there；　in　the　socks！

yours；　anne　

wednesday；　september　29；　1943

dearest　kitty；

its　mrs。　van　daans　birthday。　other　than　one　ration　stamp　each　for　cheese；　meat　and　bread；　all　she　received　from　us　was　a　jar　of　jam。　her　husband；　dussel　and　the　office　staff　gave　her　nothing　but　flowers　and　also　food。　such　are　the　times　we　live　in！

bep　had　a　nervous　fit　last　week　because　she　had　so　many　errands　to　do。　ten　times　a　day　people　were　sending　her　out　for　something；　each　time　insisting　she　go　right　away　or　go　again　or　that　shed　done　it　all　wrong。　and　when　you　think　that　she　has　her　regular　office　work　to　do；　that　mr。　kleiman　is　sick；　that　miep　is　home　with　a　cold　and　that　bep　herself　has　a　sprained　ankle；　boyfriend　troubles　and　a　grouchy　father；　its　no　wonder　shes　at　the　end　of　her　tether。　we　forted　her　and　told　her　that　if　shed　put　her　foot　down　once　or　twice　and　say　she　didnt　have　the　time；　the　shopping　lists　would　shrink　of　their　own　accord。

saturday　there　was　a　big　drama；　the　likes　of　which　have　never　been　seen　here　before。

it　started　with　a　discussion　of　van　maaren　and　ended　in　a　general　argument　and　tears。

dussel　plained　to　mother　that　he　was　being　treated　like　a　leper；　that　no　one　was　friendly　to　him　and　that；　after　all；　he　hadnt　done　anything　to　deserve　it。　this　was　followed　by　a　lot　of　sweet　talk；　which　luckily　mother　didnt　fall　for　this　time。　she　told　him　we　were　disappointed　in　him　and　that；　on　more　than　one　occasion；　hed　been　a　source　of　great　annoyance。　dussel　promised　her　the　moon；　but；　as　usual；　we　havent　seen　so　much　as　a　beam。

theres　trouble　brewing　with　the　van　daans；　i　can　tell！　fathers　furious　because　theyre　cheating　us：　theyve　been　holding　back　meat　and　other　things。　oh；　what　kind　of

bombshell　is　about　to　burst　now？　if　only　i　werent　so　involved　in　all　these　skirmishes！

if　only　i　could　leave　here！　theyre　driving　us　crazy！

yours；　anne　

。。



OCTOBER；　1943

（／小｜说｜网）
sunday；　october　17；　1943

dearest　kitty；

mr。　kleiman　is　back；　thank　goodness！　he　looks　a　bit　pale；　and　yet　he　cheerfully　set　off　to　sell　some　clothes　for　mr。　van　daan。　the　disagreeable　fact　is　that　mr。　van　daan　has　run　out　of　money。　he　lost　his　last　hundred　guilders　in　the　warehouse；　which　is　still　creating　trouble　for　us：　the　men　are　wondering　how　a　hundred　guilders　could　wind　up　in　the　warehouse　on　a　monday　morning。　suspicion　abounds。　meanwhile；　the　hundred　guilders　have　been　stolen。　whos　the　thief？

but　i　was　talking　about　the　money　shortage。　mrs。　van　d。　has　scads　of　dresses；　coats　and　shoes；　none　of　which　she　feels　she　can　do　without。　mr。　van　d。s　suit　is　difficult　to　sell；　and　peters　bike　was　put　on　the　block；　but　is　back　again；　since　nobody　wanted　it。

but　the　story　doesnt　end　there。　you　see；　mrs。　van　d。　is　going　to　have　to　part　with　her　fur　coat。　in　her　opinion；　the　firm　should　pay　for　our　upkeep；　but　thats　ridiculous。

they　just　had　a　flaming　row　about　it　and　have　entered　the　〃oh；　my　sweet　putti〃　and　〃darling　kerli〃　stage　of　reconciliation。

my　mind　boggles　at　the　profanity　this　honorable　house　has　had　to　endure　in　the　past　month。　father　walks　around　with　his　lips　pressed　together；　and　whenever　he　hears　his　name；　he　looks　up　in　alarm；　as　ifhes　afraid　hell　be　called　upon　to　resolve　another　delicate　problem。　mothers　so　wrought　up　her　cheeks　are　blotched　with　red；　margot　plains　of　headaches；　dussel　cant　sleep；　mrs。　van　d。　frets　and　fumes　all　day　long；　and　ive　gone　pletely　round　the　bend。　to　tell　you　the　truth；　i　sometimes　forget　who　were　at　odds　with　and　who　were　not。　the　only　way　to　take　my　mind　off　it　is　to　study；　and　ive　been　doing　a　lot　of　that　lately。

yours；　anne　

friday；　october　29；1943

my　dearest　kitty；

mr。　kleiman　is　out　again；　his　stomach　wont　give　him　a　moments　peace。　he　doesnt　even　know　whether　its　stopped　bleeding。　he　came　to　tell　us　he　wasnt　feeling　well

and　was　going　home；　and　for　the　first　time　he　seemed　really　down。

mr。　and　mrs。　van　d。　have　had　more　raging　battles。　the　reason　is　simple：　theyre　broke。　they　wanted　to　sell　an　overcoat　and　a　suit　of　mr。　van　d。　s；　but　were　unable　to　find　any　buyers。　his　prices　were　way　too　high。

some　time　ago　mr。　kleiman　was　talking　about　a　furrier　he　knows。　this　gave　mr。　van　d。　the　idea　of　selling　his　wifes　fur　coat。　its　made　of　rabbit　skin；　and　shes　had　it　for　seventeen　years。　mrs。　van　d。　got　325　guilders　for　it；　an　enormous　amount。　she　wanted　to　keep　the　money　herself　to　buy　new　clothes　after　the　war；　and　it　took　some　doing　before　mr。　van　d。　could　make　her　understand　that　it　was　desperately　needed　to　cover　household　expenses。

you　cant　imagine　the　screaming；　shouting；　stamping　of　feet　and　swearing　that　went　on。

it　was　terrifying。　my　family　stood　holding　its　breath　at　the　bottom　of　the　stairs；　in　case　it　might　be　necessary　to　drag　them　apart。　all　the　bickering；　tears　and　nervous　tension　have　bee　such　a　stress　and　strain　that　i　fall　into　my　bed　at　night　crying　and　thanking　my　lucky　stars　that　i　have　half　an　hour　to　myself。

im　doing　fine；　except　ive　got　no　appetite。　i　keep　hearing：　〃goodness；　you　look　awful！〃　i　must　admit　theyre　doing　their　best　to　keep　me　in　condition：　theyre　plying　me　with　dextrose；　cod…liver　oil；　brewers　yeast　and　calcium。　my　nerves　often　get　the　better　of　me；　especially　on　sundays；　thats　when　i　really　feel　miserable。　the　atmosphere　is　stifling；　sluggish；　leaden。　outside；　you　dont　hear　a　single　bird；　and　a　deathly；　oppressive　silence　hangs　over　the　house　and　clings　to　me　as　if　it　were　going　to　drag　me　into　the　deepest　regions　of　the　underworld。　at　times　like　these；　father；　mother　and　margot　dont　matter　to　me　in　the　least。　i　wander　from　room　to　room；　climb　up　and　down　the　stairs　and　feel　like　a　songbird　whose　wings　have　been　ripped　off　and　who　keeps　hurling　itself　against　the　bars　of　its　dark　cage。　〃let　me　out；　where　theres　fresh　air　and　laughter！〃　a　voice　within　me　cries。　i　dont　even　bother　to　reply　anymore；　but　lie　down　on　the　divan。　sleep　makes　the　silence　and　the　terrible　fear　go　by　more　quickly；　helps　pass　the　time；　since　its　impossible　to　kill　it。

yours；　anne　

。d　　。



NOVEMBER；　1943


wednesday；　november　3；　1943

dearest　kitty；

to　take　our　minds　off　matters　as　well　as　to　develop　them；　father　ordered　a　catalog　from　a　correspondence　school。　margot　pored　through　the　thick　brochure　three　times

without　finding　anything　to　her　liking　and　within　her　budget。　father　was　easier　to　satisfy　and　decided　to　write　and　ask　for　a　trial　lesson　in　〃elementary　latin。〃　no　sooner　said　than　done。　the　lesson　arrived；　margot　set　to　work　enthusiastically　and　decided　to　take