ots much more sensible and intellectually advanced； as a result of her four years at an excellent school。”
mrs。 van daan agreed with her； but felt it was wrong as a matter of principle to let youngsters read books written for adults。
meanwhile； peter had thought of a suitable time when no one would be interested in either him or the book。 at seven…thirty in the evening； when the entire family was listening to the radio in the private office； he took his treasure and stole off to the loft again。 he should have been back by eight…thirty； but he was so engrossed in the book that he forgot the time and was just ing down the stairs when his father entered the room。 the scene that followed was not surprising： after a slap； a whack and a tug…of…war； the book lay on the table and peter was in the loft。
this is how matters stood when it was time for the family to eat。 peter stayed upstairs。 no one gave him a moments thought； hed have to go to bed without his dinner。 we continued eating； chatting merrily away； when suddenly we heard a piercing whistle。 we lay down our forks and stared at each other； the shock clearly visible on our pale faces。
then we heard peters voice through the chimney： 〃i won t e down！〃
mr。 van daan leapt up； his napkin falling to the floor； and shouted； with the blood rushing to his face； 〃ive had enough！”
father； afraid of what might happen； grabbed him by the arm and the two men went to the attic。 after much struggling and kicking； peter wound up in his room with the door shut； and we went on eating。
mrs。 van daan wanted to save a piece of bread for her darling son； but mr。 van d。
was adamant。 〃if he doesnt apologize this minute； hell have to sleep in the loft。”
we protested that going without dinner was enough punishment。 what if peter were to catch cold？ we wouldnt be able to call a doctor。
peter didnt apologize； and returned to the loft。
mr。 van daan decided to leave well enough alone； though he did note the next morning that peters bed had been slept in。 at seven peter went to the attic again； but was persuaded to e downstairs when father spoke a few friendly words to him。 after three days of sullen looks and stubborn silence； everything was back to normal。
yours； anne monday； september 21； 1942
dearest kitty；
today ill tell you the general news here in the annex。 a lamp has been mounted above my divan bed so that in the future； when i hear the guns going off； ill be able to pull a cord and switch on the light。 i cant use it at the moment because were keeping our window open a little； day and night。
the male members of the van daan contingent have built a very handy wood…stained food safe； with real screens。 up to now this glorious cupboard has been located in peters room； but in the interests of fresh air its been moved to the attic。 where it once stood； theres now a shelf。 i advised peter to put his table underneath the shelf； add a nice rug and hang his own cupboard where the table now stands。 that might make his little cubbyhole more fy； though i certainly wouldnt like to sleep there。
mrs。 van daan is unbearable。 im continually being scolded for my incessant chatter when im upstairs。 i simply let the words bounce right off me！ madame now has a
new trick up her sleeve： trying to get out of washing the pots and pans。 if theres a bit of food left at the bottom of the pan； she leaves it to spoil instead of transferring it to a glass dish。 then in the afternoon when margot is stuck with cleaning all the pots and pans； madame exclaims； 〃oh； poor margot； you have so much work to do！”
every other week mr。 kleiman brings me a couple of books written for girls my age。
im enthusiastic about the loop ter heul series。 ive enjoyed all of cissy van marxveldts books very much。 ive read the zaniest summer four times； and the ludicrous situations still make me laugh。
father and i are currently working on our family tree； and he tells me something about each person as we go along。 ive begun my schoolwork。 im working hard at french； cramming five irregular verbs into my head every day。 but ive forgotten much too much of what i learned in school。
peter has taken up his english with great reluctance。 a few schoolbooks have just arrived； and i brought a large supply of notebooks； pencils； erasers and labels from home。 pim （thats our pet name for father） wants me to help him with his dutch lessons。 im perfectly willing to tutor him in exchange for his assistance with french and other subjects。 but he makes the most unbelievable mistakes！
i sometimes listen to the dutch broadcasts from london。 prince bernhard recently announced that princess juliana is expecting a baby in january； which i think is wonderful。 no one here understands why i take such an interest in the royal family。
a few nights ago i was the topic of discussion； and we all decided i was an ignoramus。 as a result； i threw myself into my schoolwork the next day； since i have little desire to still be a freshman when im fourteen or fifteen。 the fact that im hardly allowed to read anything was also discussed。 at the moment； mothers reading gentlemen； wives and servants； and of course im not allowed to read it （though margot is！）。 first i have to be more intellectually developed； like my genius of a sister。 then we discussed my ignorance of philosophy； psychology and physiology （i immediately looked up these big words in the dictionary！）。 its true； i dont know anything about these subjects。 but maybe ill be smarter next year！
ive e to the shocking conclusion that i have only one long…sleeved dress and three cardigans to wear in the winter。 fathers given me permission to knit a white wool sweater； the yarn isnt very pretty； but itll be warm； and thats what counts。
some of our clothing was left with friends； but unfortunately we wont be able to get to it until after the war。 provided its still there； of course。
id just finished writing something about mrs。 van daan when she walked into the room。 thump； i slammed the book shut。
〃hey； anne； cant i even take a peek？”
〃no； mrs。 van daan。”
〃just the last page then？”
〃no； not even the last page； mrs。 van daan。”
of course； i nearly died； since that particular page contained a rather unflattering description of her。
theres something happening every day； but im too tired and lazy to write it all down。
yours； anne friday； september 25； 1942
dearest kitty；
father has a friend； a man in his mid…seventies named mr。 dreher； whos sick； poor and deaf as a post。 at his side； like a useless appendage； is his wife； twenty…seven years younger and equally poor； whose arms and legs are loaded with real and fake bracelets and rings left over from more prosperous days。 this mr。 dreher has already been a great nuisance to father； and ive always admired the saintly patience with which he handled this pathetic old man on the phone。 when we were still living at home； mother used to advise him to put a gramophone in front of the receiver； one that would repeat every three minutes； 〃yes； mr。 dreher〃 and 〃no； mr。 dreher；〃 since the old man never understood a word of fathers lengthy replies anyway。
today mr。 dreher phoned the office and asked mr。 kugler to e and see him。 mr。
kugler wasnt in the mood and said he would send miep； but miep canceled the appointment。 mrs。 dreher called the office three times； but since miep was reportedly out the entire afternoon； she had to imitate beps voice。 downstairs in the office as well as upstairs in the annex； there was great hilarity。 now each time the phone rings； bep says thats mrs。 dreher！〃 and miep has to laugh； so that the people on the other end of the line are greeted with an impolite giggle。 cant you just picture it？
this has got to be the greatest office in the whole wide world。 the bosses and the
office girls have such fun together！
some evenings i go to the van daans for a little chat。 we eat 〃mothball cookies”
（molasses cookies that were stored in a closet that was mothproofed） and have a good time。 recently the conversation was about peter。 i said that he often pats me on the cheek； which i dont like。 they asked me in a typically grown…up way whether i could ever learn to love peter like a brother； since he loves me like a sister。 〃oh； no！〃 i said； but what i was thinking was； 〃oh； ugh！〃 just imagine！ i added that peters a bit stiff； perhaps because hes shy。 boys who arent used to being around girls are like that。
i must say that the annex mittee （the mens section） is very creative。 listen to the scheme theyve e up with to get a message to mr。 broks； an opekta co。 sales representative and friend whos surreptitiously hidden some of our things for us！
theyre going to type a letter to a store owner in southern zealand who is； indirectly； one of opekta s customers and ask him to fill out a form and send it back in the enclosed self…addressed envelope。 father will write the address on the envelope himself。 once the letter is returned from zealand； the form can be removed and a handwritten message confirming that father is alive can be inserted in the envelope。
this way mr。 broks can read the letter without suspecting a ruse。 they chose the province of zealand because its close to