Dear Kitty, Yesterday I had a horrible fright. At eight o'clock the doorbell suddenly rang.
All I could think of was that someone was coming to get us, you know who I mean.
But I calmed down when everybody swore it must have been either pranksters or the mailman.
The days here are very quiet. Mr. Levinsohn, a little Jewish pharmacist and chemist, is working for Mr. Kugler in the kitchen.
Since he's familiar with the entire building, we're in constant dread that he'll take it into his head
to go have a look at what used to be the laboratory.
We're as still as baby mice. Who would have guessed three months ago that quicksilver Anne would have to sit so quietly for hours on end,
and what's more, that she could? Mrs. van Daan's birthday was the twenty-ninth.
Though we didn't have a large celebration, she was showered with flowers, simple gifts and good food.
Apparently the red carnations from her spouse are a family tradition.
Let me pause a moment on the subject of Mrs. van Daan and tell you that her attempts to flirt with Father are a constant source of irritation to me.
She pats him on the cheek and head, hikes up her skirt and makes so-called witty remarks in an effort to get Pim's attention.
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