安妮日记英文版_安妮·弗兰克-第32部分

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be　all　right　in　the　end。

yours；　anne　

tuesday；　february　8；　1944

dear　kitty；

i　cant　tell　you　how　i　feel。　one　minute　im　longing　for　peace　and　quiet；　and　the　next　for　a　little　fun。　weve　forgotten　how　to　laugh　　i　mean；　laughing　so　hard　you　can　t　stop。

this　morning　i　had　〃the　giggles〃；　you　know；　the　kind　we　used　to　have　at　school。

margot　and　i　were　giggling　like　real　teenagers。

last　night　there　was　another　scene　with　mother。　margot　was　tucking　her　wool　blanket　around　her　when　suddenly　she　leapt　out　of　bed　and　carefully　examined　the　blanket。

what　do　you　think　she　found？　a　pin！　mother　had　patched　the　blanket　and　forgotten　to　take　it　out。　father　shook　his　head　meaningfully　and　made　a　ment　about　how　careless　mother　is。　soon　afterward　mother　came　in　from　the　bathroom；　and　just　to　tease　her　i　said；　〃du　bist　doch　eine　echte　rabenmutter。〃　＇oh；　you　are　cruel。＇

of　course；　she　asked　me　why　id　said　that；　and　we　told　her　about　the　pin　shed　overlooked。　she　immediately　assumed　her　haughtiest　expression　and　said；　〃youre　a　fine　one　to　talk。　when　youre　sewing；　the　entire　floor　is　covered　with　pins。　and　look；　youve　left　the　manicure　set　lying　around　again。　you　never　put　that　away　either！鈥�

i　said　i　hadnt　used　it；　and　margot　backed　me　up；　since　she　was　the　guilty　party。

mother　went　on　talking　about　how　messy　i　was　until　i　got　fed　up　and　said；　rather　curtly；　〃i　wasnt　even　the　one　who　said　you　were　careless。　im　always　getting　blamed　for　other　peoples　mistakes！鈥�

mother　fell　silent；　and　less　than　a　minute　later　i　was　obliged　to　kiss　her　good…night。

this　incident　may　not　have　been　very　important；　but　these　days　everything　gets　on　my　nerves。

anne　mary　frank

saturday；　february　12；　1944

dearest　kitty；

the　sun　is　shining；　the　sky　is　deep　blue；　theres　a　magnificent　breeze；　and　im　longing　　really　longing　　for　everything：　conversation；　freedom；　friends；　being　alone。　i　long。　。　。　to　cry！　i　feel　as　if　i　were　about　to　explode。　i　know　crying　would　help；　but　i　cant　cry。　im　restless。　i　walk　from　one　room　to　another；　breathe　through　the　crack　in　the　window　frame；　feel　my　heart　beating　as　if　to　say；　〃fulfill　my　longing　at　last。　。　。鈥�

i　think　spring　is　inside　me。　i　feel　spring　awakening；　i　feel　it　in　my　entire　body　and　soul。　i　have　to　force　myself　to　act　normally。　im　in　a　state　of　utter　confusion；　dont　know　what　to　read；　what　to　write；　what　to　do。　i　only　know　that　im　longing　for　something。　。　。

yours；　anne　

186　anne　frank

monday；　february　14；　1944

dearest　kitty；

a　lot　has　changed　for　me　since　saturday。　whats　happened　is　this：　i　was　longing　for

something　（and　still　am）；　but。　。　。　a　small；　a　very　small；　part　of　the　problem　has　been　resolved。

on　sunday　morning　i　noticed；　to　my　great　joy　（ill　be　honest　with　you）；　that　peter　kept　looking　at　me。　not　in　the　usual　way。　i　dont　know；　i　cant　explain　it；　but　i　suddenly　had　the　feeling　he　wasnt　as　in　love　with　margot　as　i　used　to　think。　all　day　long　i　tried　not　to　look　at　him　too　much；　because　whenever　i　did；　i　caught　him　looking　at　me　and　then　　well；　it　made　me　feel　wonderful　inside；　and　thats　not　a　feeling　i　should　have　too　often。

sunday　evening　everyone；　except　pim　and　me；　was　clustered　around　the　radio；　listening　to　the　〃immortal　music　of　the　german　masters。〃　dussel　kept　twisting　and　turning　the　knobs；　which　annoyed　peter；　and　the　others　too。　after　restraining　himself　for　half　an　hour；　peter　asked　somewhat　irritably　if　he　would　stop　fiddling　with　the　radio。　dussel　replied　in　his　haughtiest　tone；　〃ich　mach　das　schon！〃　＇ill　decide　that。＇　peter　got　angry　and　made　an　insolent　remark。　mr。　van　daan　sided　with　him；　and　dussel　had　to　back　down。　that　was　it。

the　reason　for　the　disagreement　wasnt　particularly　interesting　in　and　of　itself；　but　peter　has　apparently　taken　the　matter　very　much　to　heart；　because　this　morning；　when　i　was　rummaging　around　in　the　crate　of　books　in　the　attic；　peter　came　up　and　began　telling　me　what　had　happened。　i　didnt　know　anything　about　it；　but　peter　soon　realized　hed　found　an　attentive　listener　and　started　warming　up　to　his　subject。

〃well；　its　like　this；〃　he　said。　〃i　dont　usually　talk　much；　since　i　know　beforehand　ill　just　be　tongue…tied。　i　start　stuttering　and　blushing　and　i　twist　my　words　around　so　much　i　finally　have　to　stop；　because　i　cant　find　the　right　words。　thats　what　happened　yesterday。　i　meant　to　say　something　entirely　different；　but　once　i　started；　i　got　all　mixed　up。　its　awful。　i　used　to　have　a　bad　habit；　and　sometimes　i　wish　i　still　did：

whenever　i　was　mad　at　someone；　id　beat　them　up　instead　of　arguing　with　them。　i　know　this　method　wont　get　me　anywhere；　and　thats　why　i　admire　you。　youre　never　at　a　loss　for　words：　you　say　exactly　what　you　want　to　say　and　arent　in　the　least　bit　shy。鈥�

〃oh；　youre　wrong　about　that；〃　i　replied。　〃most　of　what　i　say　es　out　very　differently　from　the　way　id　planned。　plus　i　talk　too　much　and　too　long；　and　thats　just　as　bad。鈥�

〃maybe；　but　you　have　the　advantage　that　no　one　can　see　youre　embarrassed。　you　dont　blush　or　go　to　pieces。〃

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