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安妮日记英文版_安妮·弗兰克-第章

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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。鈥

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?鈥

〃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 the jews。

he said life would have been much easier if hed been a christian or could bee one after the war。 i asked if he wanted to be baptized; but that wasnt what he meant either。 he said hed never be able to feel like a christian; but that after the war hed make sure nobody would know he was jewish。 i felt a momentary pang。 its such a shame he still has a touch of dishonesty in him。

peter added; 〃the jews have been and always will be the chosen people!鈥

i answered; 〃just this once; i hope theyll be chosen for something good!鈥

but we went on chatting very pleasantly; about father; about judging human character and all sorts of things; so many that i cant even remember them all。

i left at a quarter past five; because bep had arrived。

that evening he said something else i thought was nice。 we were talking about the picture of a movie star id once given him; which has been hanging in his room for at least a year and a half。 he liked it so much that i offered to give him a few more。

〃no;〃 he replied; 〃id rather keep the one ive got。 i look at it every day; and the people in it have bee my friends。鈥

i now have a better understanding of why he always hugs mouschi so tightly。 he obviously needs affection too。 i forgot to mention something else he was talking about。

he said; 〃no; im not afraid; except when it es to things about myself; but im working on that。鈥

peter has a huge inferiority plex。 for example; he always thinks hes so stupid and were so smart。 when i help him with french; he thanks me a thousand times。 one of these days im going to say; 〃oh; cut it out! youre much better at english and geography!鈥

anne frank

thursday; february 17; 1944

dear kitty;

i was upstairs this morning; since i promised mrs。 van d。 id read her some of my stories。 i began with 〃evas dream;〃 which she liked a lot; and then i read a few passages from 〃the secret annex;〃 which had her in stitches。 peter also listened for a while (just the last part) and asked if id e to his room sometime to read more。

i decided i had to take a chance right then and there; so i got my notebook and let him read that bit where cady and hans talk about god。 i cant really tell what kind of impression it made on him。 he said something i dont quite remember; not about whether it was good; but about the idea behind it。 i told him i just wanted him to see that i didnt write only amusing things。 he nodded; and i left the room。 well see if i hear anything more!

yours; anne 

frank

friday; february 18; 1944

my dearest kitty;

whenever i go upstairs; its always so i can see 〃him。〃 now that i have something to look forward to; my life here has improved greatly。

at least the object of my friendship is always here; and i dont have to be afraid of rivals (except for margot)。 dont think im in love; because im not; but i do have the feeling that something beautiful is going to develop between peter and me; a kind of friendship and a feeling of trust。 i go see him whenever i get the chance; and its not the way it used to be; when he didnt know what to make of me。 on the contrary; hes still talking away as im heading out the door。 mother doesnt like me going upstairs。 she always says im bothering peter and that i should leave him alone。

honestly; cant she credit me with some intuition? she always looks at me so oddly when i go to peters room。 when i e down again; she asks me where ive been。

its terrible; but im beginning to hate her!

yours; anne 

m。 frank

saturday; february 19; 1944

dearest kitty;

its saturday again; and that should tell you enough。 this morning all was quiet。 i spent nearly an hour upstairs making meatballs; but i only spoke to 〃him〃 in passing。

when everyone went upstairs at two…thirty to either read or take a nap; i went downstairs; with blanket and all; to sit at the desk and read or write。 before long i couldnt take it anymore。 i put my head in my arms and sobbed my heart out。 the tears streamed down my cheeks; and i felt desperately unhappy。 oh; if only he〃 had e to fort me。

it was past four by the time i went upstairs again。 at five oclock i set off to get some potatoes; hoping once again that wed meet; but while i was still in the bathroom fixing my hair; he went to see boche。

i wanted to help mrs。 van d。 and went upstairs with my book and everything; but suddenly i felt the tears ing again。 i raced downstairs to the bathroom; grabbing the hand mirror on the way。 i sat there on the toilet; fully dressed; long after i was through; my tears leaving dark spots on the red of my apron; and i felt utterly dejected。

heres what was going through my mind: 〃oh; ill never reach pete
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