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fice work； mrs。 van d。 puts a kettle of water on the stove； mother es down the stairs with a pan of potatoes； we all know our jobs。
soon peter es back from the warehouse。 the first question they ask him is whether hes remembered the bread。 no； he hasnt。 he crouches before the door to the front office to make himself as small as possible and crawls on his hands and knees to the steel cabinet； takes out the bread and starts to leave。 at any rate； thats what he intends to do； but before he knows whats happened； mouschi has jumped over him and gone to sit under the desk。
peter looks all around him。 aha； theres the cat！ he crawls back into the office and grabs the cat by the tail。 mouschi hisses； peter sighs。 what has he acplished？
mouschis now sitting by the window licking herself； very pleased at having escaped peters clutches。 peter has no choice but to lure her with a piece of bread。 mouschi takes the bait； follows him out； and the door closes。
i watch the entire scene through a crack in the door。
mr。 van daan is angry and slams the door。 margot and i exchange looks and think the same thing： he must have worked himself into a rage again because of some blunder on mr。 kuglers part； and hes forgotten all about the keg pany next door。
another step is heard in the hallway。 dussel es in； goes toward the window with an air of propriety； sniffs。 。 。 coughs； sneezes and clears his throat。 hes out of luck …… it was pepper。 he continues on to the front office。 the curtains are open； which means he cant get at his writing paper。 he disappears with a scowl。
margot and i exchange another glance。 〃one less page for his sweetheart tomorrow；〃 i
hear her say。 i nod in agreement。
an elephants tread is heard on the stairway。 its dussel； seeking fort in his favorite spot。
we continue working。 knock； knock； knock。 。 。 three taps means dinnertime！
monday； august 23； 1943
wenn die uhr halb neune schlaat 。 。 。 ＇ when the clock strikes half past eight。＇ margot and mother are nervous。 〃shh 。 。 。 father。 be quiet； otto。 shh 。 。 。 pim！ its eight…thirty。
e here； you cant run the water anymore。 walk softly！〃 a sample of whats said to father in the bathroom。 at the stroke of half past eight； he has to be in the living room。 no running water； no flushing toilet； no walking around； no noise whatsoever。 as long as the office staff hasnt arrived； sounds travel more easily to the warehouse。
the door opens upstairs at eight…twenty； and this is followed by three gentle taps on the floor。 。 。 annes hot cereal。 i clamber up the stairs to get my doggie dish。
back downstairs； everything has to be done quickly； quickly： i b my hair； put away the potty； shove the bed back in place。 quiet！ the clock is striking eight…thirty！ mrs。
van d。 changes shoes and shuffles through the room in her slippers； mr。 van d。 too …… a veritable charlie chaplin。 all is quiet。
the ideal family scene has now reached its high point。 i want to read or study and margot does too。 father and mother ditto。 father is sitting （with dickens and the dictionary； of course） on the edge of the sagging； squeaky bed； which doesnt even have a decent mattress。 two bolsters can be piled on top of each other。 〃i dont need these；〃 he thinks。 〃i can manage without them！”
once he starts reading； he doesnt look up。 he laughs now and then and tries to get mother to read a story。
〃i dont have the time right now！”
he looks disappointed； but then continues to read。
a little while later； when he es across another good passage； he tries again： 〃you
have to read this； mother！”
mother sits on the folding bed； either reading； sewing； knitting or studying； whichever is next on her list。 an idea suddenly occurs to her； and she quickly says； so as not to forget； 〃anne； remember to 。 。 。 margot； jot this down。 。 。 “
after a while its quiet again。 margot slams her book shut； father knits his forehead； his eyebrows forming a funny curve and his wrinkle of concentration reappearing i at the back of his head； and he buries himself in his book 1 again； mother starts chatting with margot； and i get curious and listen too。 pim is drawn into the conversation 。 。 。
nine oclock。 breakfast！
．．
SEPTEMBER； 1943
！
friday； september 10； 1943
dearest kitty；
every time i write to you； something special has happened； usually unpleasant rather than pleasant。 this time； however； something wonderful is going on。
on wednesday； september 8； we were listening to the seven oclock news when we heard an announcement： 〃here is some of the best news of the war so far： italy has capitulated。〃 italy has unconditionally surrendered！ the dutch broadcast from england began at eight…fifteen with the news： 〃listeners； an hour and fifteen minutes ago； just as i finished writing my daily report； we received the wonderful news of italys capitulation。 i tell you； i never tossed my notes into the wastepaper basket with more delight than i did today！”
〃god save the king；〃 the american national anthem and the russian internationale”
were played。 as always； the dutch program was uplifting without being too optimistic。
the british have landed in naples。 northern italy is occupied by the germans。 the truce was signed on friday； september 3； the day the british landed in italy。 the germans are ranting and raving in all the newspapers at the treachery of badoglio and the italian king。
still； theres bad news as well。 its about mr。 kleiman。 as you know； we all like him very much。 hes unfailingly cheerful and amazingly brave； despite the fact that hes always sick and in pain and cant eat much or do a lot of walking。 〃when mr。 kleiman enters a room； the sun begins to shine；〃 mother said recently； and shes absolutely right。
now it seems he has to go to the hospital for a very difficult operation on his stomach； and will have to stay there for at least four weeks。 you should have seen him when he told us good…bye。 he acted so normally； as though he were just off to do an errand。
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 sl