Margot's a stinker (there's no other word for it), a constant source of irritation, morning, noon and night. Anne Frank
SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 7, 1942
Dearest Kitty, Mother's nerves are very much on edge, and that doesn't bode well for me.
Is it just a coincidence that Father and Mother never scold Margot and always blame me for everything?
Last night, for example, Margot was reading a book with beautiful illustrations; she got up and put the book aside for later.
I wasn't doing anything, so I picked it up and began looking at the pictures.
Margot came back, saw “her” book in my hands, knitted her brow and angrily demanded the book back.
I wanted to look through it some more. Margot got madder by the minute, and Mother butted in: “Margot was reading that book; give it back to her.”
Father came in, and without even knowing what was going on, saw that Margot was being wronged and lashed out at me:
“I'd like to see what you'd do if Margot was looking at one of your books!”
I promptly gave in, put the book down and, according to them, left the room “in a huff.”
I was neither huffy nor cross, but merely sad. It wasn't right of Father to pass judgment without knowing what the issue was.
전체재생
다음페이지
문장검색