In revenge, Peter and I stuck two hard brushes in his bed, but had to take them out again
when Dussel unexpectedly decided to go sit in his room. We had a really good laugh at this little intermezzo.
But our fun was short-lived. At nine-thirty Peter knocked gently on the door
and asked Father to come upstairs and help him with a difficult English sentence.
“That sounds fishy,” I said to Margot. “It's obviously a pretext.
You can tell by the way the men are talking that there's been a break-in!” I was right.
The warehouse was being broken into at that very moment. Father, Mr. van Daan and Peter were downstairs in a flash.
Margot, Mother, Mrs. van D. and I waited. Four frightened women need to talk,
so that's what we did until we heard a bang downstairs. After that all was quiet.
The clock struck quarter to ten. The color had drained from our faces, but we remained calm, even though we were afraid.
Where were the men? What was that bang? Were they fighting with the burglars?
We were too scared to think; all we could do was wait. Ten o'clock, footsteps on the stairs.
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다음페이지
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