Bread is delivered daily by a very nice baker, a friend of Mr. Kleiman's.
Of course, we don't have as much as we did at home, but it's enough.
We also purchase ration books on the black market. The price keeps going up; it's already risen from 27 to 33 guilders.
And that for mere sheets of printed paper! To provide ourselves with a source of nutrition that will keep,
aside from the hundred cans of food we've stored here, we bought three hundred pounds of beans, not just for us, but for the office staff as well.
We'd hung the sacks of beans on hooks in the hallway, just inside our secret entrance, but a few seams split under the weight.
So we decided to move them to the attic, and Peter was entrusted with the heavy lifting.
He managed to get five of the six sacks upstairs intact and was busy with the last one
when the sack broke and a flood, or rather a hailstorm, of brown beans went flying through the air and down the stairs.
Since there were about fifty pounds of beans in that sack, it made enough noise to raise the dead.
Downstairs they were sure the house was falling down around their heads.
Peter was stunned, but then burst into peals of laughter when he saw me standing at the bottom of the stairs,
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