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others too。 after restraining himself for half an hour； peter asked somewhat irritably if he would stop fiddling with the radio。 dussel replied in his haughtiest tone； 〃ich mach das schon！〃 ＇ill decide that。＇ peter got angry and made an insolent remark。 mr。 van daan sided with him； and dussel had to back down。 that was it。
the reason for the disagreement wasnt particularly interesting in and of itself； but peter has apparently taken the matter very much to heart； because this morning； when i was rummaging around in the crate of books in the attic； peter came up and began telling me what had happened。 i didnt know anything about it； but peter soon realized hed found an attentive listener and started warming up to his subject。
〃well； its like this；〃 he said。 〃i dont usually talk much； since i know beforehand ill just be tongue…tied。 i start stuttering and blushing and i twist my words around so much i finally have to stop； because i cant find the right words。 thats what happened yesterday。 i meant to say something entirely different； but once i started； i got all mixed up。 its awful。 i used to have a bad habit； and sometimes i wish i still did：
whenever i was mad at someone； id beat them up instead of arguing with them。 i know this method wont get me anywhere； and thats why i admire you。 youre never at a loss for words： you say exactly what you want to say and arent in the least bit shy。”
〃oh； youre wrong about that；〃 i replied。 〃most of what i say es out very differently from the way id planned。 plus i talk too much and too long； and thats just as bad。”
〃maybe； but you have the advantage that no one can see youre embarrassed。 you dont blush or go to pieces。〃
i couldnt help being secretly amused at his words。 however； since i wanted him to go on talking quietly about himself； i hid my laughter； sat down on a cushion on the floor； wrapped my arms around my knees and gazed at him intently。
im glad theres someone else in this house who flies into the same rages as i do。
peter seemed relieved that he could criticize dussel without being afraid id tell。 as for me； i was pleased too； because i sensed a strong feeling of fellowship； which i only remember having had with my girlfriends。
yours； anne
tuesday； february 15； 1944
the minor run…in with dussel had several repercussions； for which he had only himself to blame。 monday evening dussel came in to see mother and told her triumphantly that peter had asked him that morning if hed slept well； and then added how sorry he was about what had happened sunday evening …… he hadnt really meant what hed said。 dussel assured him he hadnt taken it to heart。 so everything was right as rain again。 mother passed this story on to me； and i was secretly amazed that peter； whod been so angry at dussel； had humbled himself； despite all his assurances to the contrary。
i couldnt refrain from sounding peter out on the subject； and he instantly replied that dussel had been lying。 you should have seen peters face。 i wish id had a camera。
indignation； rage； indecision； agitation and much more crossed his face in rapid succession。
that evening mr。 van daan and peter really told dussel off。 but it couldnt have been all that bad； since peter had another dental appointment today。
actually； they never wanted to speak to each other again。
wednesday； february 16； 1944
peter and i hadnt talked to each other all day； except for a few meaningless words。 it was too cold to go up to the attic； and anyway； it was margots birthday。 at twelve…thirty he came to look at the presents and hung around chatting longer than was strictly necessary； something hed never have done otherwise。 but i got my chance in the afternoon。 since i felt like spoiling margot on her birthday； i went to get the coffee； and after that the potatoes。 when i came to peters room； he immediately took his papers off the stairs； and i asked if i should close the trapdoor
to the attic。
〃sure；〃 he said； 〃go ahead。 when youre ready to e back down； just knock and ill open it for you。”
i thanked him； went upstairs and spent at least ten minutes searching around in the barrel for the smallest potatoes。 my back started aching； and the attic was cold。
naturally； i didnt bother to knock but opened the trap…door myself。 but he obligingly got up and took the pan out of my hands。
〃i did my best； but i couldnt find any smaller ones。”
〃did you look in the big barrel？”
〃yes； ive been through them all。”
by this time i was at the bottom of the stairs； and he examined the pan of potatoes he was still holding。 〃oh； but these are fine；〃 he said； and added； as i took the pan from him； 〃my pliments！”
as he said this； he gave me such a warm； tender look that i started glowing inside。 i could tell he wanted to please me； but since he couldnt make a long plimentary speech； he said everything with his eyes。 i understood him so well and was very grateful。 it still makes me happy to think back to those words and that look！
when i went downstairs； mother said she needed more potatoes； this time for dinner； so i volunteered to go back up。 when i entered peters room； i apologized for disturbing him again。 as i was going up the stairs； he stood up； went over to stand between the stairs and the wall； grabbed my arm and tried to stop me。
〃ill go；〃 he said。 〃i have to go upstairs anyway。”
i replied that it wasnt really necessary； that i didnt have to get only the small ones this time。 convinced； he let go of my arm。 on my way back； he opened the trapdoor and once again took the pan from me。 standing by the door； i asked； 〃what are you working on？”
〃french；〃 he replied。
i asked if i could take a look at his lessons。 then i went to wash my hands and sat down across from him on the divan。
after id explained some french to him； we began to talk。 he told me that after the war he wanted to go to the dutch east indies and live on a rubber plantation。 he talked about his life at home； the black market and how he felt like a worthless bum。
i told him he had a big inferiority plex。 he talked about the war； saying that russia and england were bound to go to war against each other； and about th