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i couldnt help being secretly amused at his words。 however； since i wanted him to go on talking quietly about himself； i hid my laughter； sat down on a cushion on the floor； wrapped my arms around my knees and gazed at him intently。
im glad theres someone else in this house who flies into the same rages as i do。
peter seemed relieved that he could criticize dussel without being afraid id tell。 as for me； i was pleased too； because i sensed a strong feeling of fellowship； which i only remember having had with my girlfriends。
yours； anne
tuesday； february 15； 1944
the minor run…in with dussel had several repercussions； for which he had only himself to blame。 monday evening dussel came in to see mother and told her triumphantly that peter had asked him that morning if hed slept well； and then added how sorry he was about what had happened sunday evening he hadnt really meant what hed said。 dussel assured him he hadnt taken it to heart。 so everything was right as rain again。 mother passed this story on to me； and i was secretly amazed that peter； whod been so angry at dussel； had humbled himself； despite all his assurances to the contrary。
i couldnt refrain from sounding peter out on the subject； and he instantly replied that dussel had been lying。 you should have seen peters face。 i wish id had a camera。
indignation； rage； indecision； agitation and much more crossed his face in rapid succession。
that evening mr。 van daan and peter really told dussel off。 but it couldnt have been all that bad； since peter had another dental appointment today。
actually； they never wanted to speak to each other again。
wednesday； february 16； 1944
peter and i hadnt talked to each other all day； except for a few meaningless words。 it was too cold to go up to the attic； and anyway； it was margots birthday。 at twelve…thirty he came to look at the presents and hung around chatting longer than was strictly necessary； something hed never have done otherwise。 but i got my chance in the afternoon。 since i felt like spoiling margot on her birthday； i went to get the coffee； and after that the potatoes。 when i came to peters room； he immediately took his papers off the stairs； and i asked if i should close the trapdoor
to the attic。
〃sure；〃 he said； 〃go ahead。 when youre ready to e back down； just knock and ill open it for you。鈥�
i thanked him； went upstairs and spent at least ten minutes searching around in the barrel for the smallest potatoes。 my back started aching； and the attic was cold。
naturally； i didnt bother to knock but opened the trap…door myself。 but he obligingly got up and took the pan out of my hands。
〃i did my best； but i couldnt find any smaller ones。鈥�
〃did you look in the big barrel？鈥�
〃yes； ive been through them all。鈥�
by this time i was at the bottom of the stairs； and he examined the pan of potatoes he was still holding。 〃oh； but these are fine；〃 he said； and added； as i took the pan from him； 〃my pliments！鈥�
as he said this； he gave me such a warm； tender look that i started glowing inside。 i could tell he wanted to please me； but since he couldnt make a long plimentary speech； he said everything with his eyes。 i understood him so well and was very grateful。 it still makes me happy to think back to those words and that look！
when i went downstairs； mother said she needed more potatoes； this time for dinner； so i volunteered to go back up。 when i entered peters room； i apologized for disturbing him again。 as i was going up the stairs； he stood up； went over to stand between the stairs and the wall； grabbed my arm and tried to stop me。
〃ill go；〃 he said。 〃i have to go upstairs anyway。鈥�
i replied that it wasnt really necessary； that i didnt have to get only the small ones this time。 convinced； he let go of my arm。 on my way back； he opened the trapdoor and once again took the pan from me。 standing by the door； i asked； 〃what are you working on？鈥�
〃french；〃 he replied。
i asked if i could take a look at his lessons。 then i went to wash my hands and sat down across from him on the divan。
after id explained some french to him； we began to talk。 he told me that after the war he wanted to go to the dutch east indies and live on a rubber plantation。 he talked about his life at home； the black market and how he felt like a worthless bum。
i told him he had a big inferiority plex。 he talked about the war； saying that russia and england were bound to go to war against each other； and about the jews。
he said life would have been much easier if hed been a christian or could bee one after the war。 i asked if he wanted to be baptized； but that wasnt what he meant either。 he said hed never be able to feel like a christian； but that after the war hed make sure nobody would know he was jewish。 i felt a momentary pang。 its such a shame he still has a touch of dishonesty in him。
peter added； 〃the jews have been and always will be the chosen people！鈥�
i answered； 〃just this once； i hope theyll be chosen for something good！鈥�
but we went on chatting very pleasantly； about father； about judging human character and all sorts of things； so many that i cant even remember them all。
i left at a quarter past five； because bep had arrived。
that evening he said something else i thought was nice。 we were talking about the picture of a movie star id once given him； which has been hanging in his room for at least a year and a half。 he liked it so much that i offered to give him a few more。
〃no；〃 he replied； 〃id rather keep the one ive got。 i look at it every day； and the people in it have bee my friends。鈥�
i now have a better understanding of why he always hugs mouschi so tightly。 he obviously needs affection too。 i forgot to mention something else he was talking about。
he said； 〃no； im not afraid； except when it es to things about myself； but im working on that。鈥�
peter has a huge inferiority plex。 for example； he always thinks hes so stupid and were so smart。 when i help him with french； he thanks me a thousand times。 one of these days im going to say； 〃oh； cut it out！ youre much better at english and geography！鈥�
anne frank
thursday； february 17； 1944
dear kitty；
i was upstairs this morning； since i promised mrs。 van d。 id read her some of my stories。 i began with 〃evas dream；〃 which she liked a lot； and then i read a few passages from 〃the secret annex；〃 which had her in stitches。 peter also listened for a while （just the last part） and asked if id e to his room sometime to read more。
i decided i had to take a chance right then and there； so i got my notebook and let him read that bit where cady and hans talk about god。 i cant really tell what kind of impression it made on him。 he said something i dont quite remember； not about whether it was good； but about the idea behind it。 i told him i just wanted him to see that i didnt write only amusing things。 he nodded； and i left the room。 well see if i hear anything more！
yours； anne
frank
friday； february 18； 1944
my dearest kitty；
whenever i go upstairs； its always so i can see 〃him。〃 now that i have something to look forward to； my life here has improved greatly。
at least the object of my friendship is always here； and i dont have to be afraid of rivals （except for margot）。 dont think im in love； because im not； but i do have the feeling that something beautiful is going to develop between peter and me； a kind of friendship and a feeling of trust。 i go see him whenever i get the chance； and its not the way it used to be； when he didnt know what to make of me。 on the contrary； hes still talking away as im heading out the door。 mother doesnt like me going upstairs。 she always says im bothering peter and that i should leave him alone。
honestly； cant she credit me with some intuition？ she always looks at me so oddly when i go to peters room。 when i e down again； she asks me where ive been。
its terrible； but im beginning to hate her！
yours； anne
m。 frank
saturday； february 19； 1944
dearest kitty；
its saturday again； and that should tell you enough。 this morning all was quiet。 i spent nearly an hour upstairs making meatballs； but i only spoke to 〃him〃 in passing。
when everyone went upstairs at two…thirty to either read or take a nap； i went downstairs； with blanket and all； to sit at the desk and read or write。 before long i couldnt take it anymore。 i put my head in my arms and sobbed my heart out。 the tears streamed down my cheeks； and i felt desperately unhappy。 oh； if only he〃 had e to fort me。
it was past four by the time i went upstairs again。 at five oclock i set off to get some potatoes； hoping once again that wed meet； but while i was still in the bathroom fixing my hair； he went to see boche。
i wanted to help mrs。 van d。 and went upstairs with my book and everything； but suddenly i felt the tears ing again。 i raced downstairs to the bathroom； grabbing the hand mirror on the way。 i sat there on the toilet； fully dressed； long after i was through； my tears leaving dark spots on the red of my apron； and i felt utterly dejected。
heres what was going through my mind： 〃oh； ill never reach peter this way。 who knows； maybe he doesnt even like me