At seven Peter went to the attic again, but was persuaded to come 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 I'll 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, I'll be able to pull a cord and switch on the light.
I can't use it at the moment because we're 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 Peter's room, but in the interests of fresh air it's been moved to the attic.
Where it once stood, there's 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 comfy, though I certainly wouldn't like to sleep there.
Mrs. van Daan is unbearable. I'm continually being scolded for my incessant chatter when I'm upstairs.
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