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〃god save the king；〃 the american national anthem and the russian internationale鈥�
were played。 as always； the dutch program was uplifting without being too optimistic。
the british have landed in naples。 northern italy is occupied by the germans。 the truce was signed on friday； september 3； the day the british landed in italy。 the germans are ranting and raving in all the newspapers at the treachery of badoglio and the italian king。
still； theres bad news as well。 its about mr。 kleiman。 as you know； we all like him very much。 hes unfailingly cheerful and amazingly brave； despite the fact that hes always sick and in pain and cant eat much or do a lot of walking。 〃when mr。 kleiman enters a room； the sun begins to shine；〃 mother said recently； and shes absolutely right。
now it seems he has to go to the hospital for a very difficult operation on his stomach； and will have to stay there for at least four weeks。 you should have seen him when he told us good…bye。 he acted so normally； as though he were just off to do an errand。
yours； anne
thursday； september 16； 1943
dearest kitty；
relationships here in the annex are getting worse all the time。 we dont dare open our mouths at mealtime （except to slip in a bite of food）； because no matter what we say； someone is bound to resent it or take it the wrong way。 mr。 voskuijl occasionally es to visit us。 unfortunately； hes not doing very well。 he isnt making it any easier for his family； because his attitude seems to be： what do i care； im going to die anyway！ when i think how touchy everyone is here； i can just imagine what it must be like at the voskuijls。
ive been taking valerian every day to fight the anxiety and depression； but it doesnt stop me from being even more miserable the next day。 a good hearty laugh would help better than ten valerian drops； but weve almost forgotten how to laugh。
sometimes im afraid my face is going to sag with all this sorrow and that my mouth is going to permanently droop at the corners。 the others arent doing any better。
everyone here is dreading the great terror known as winter。
another fact that doesnt exactly brighten up our days is that mr。 van maaren； the man who works in the warehouse； is getting suspicious about the annex。 a person with any brains must have noticed by now that miep sometimes says shes going to the lab； bep to the file room and mr。 kleiman to the opekta supplies； while mr。
kugler claims the annex doesnt belong to this building at all； but to the one next door。
we wouldnt care what mr。 van maaren thought of the situation except that hes known to be unreliable and to possess a high degree of curiosity。 hes not one who can be put off with a flimsy excuse。
one day mr。 kugler wanted to be extra cautious； so at twenty past twelve he put on his coat and went to the drugstore around the corner。 less than five minutes later he was back； and he sneaked up the stairs like a thief to visit us。 at one…fifteen he started to leave； but bep met him on the landing and warned him that van maaren was
in the office。 mr。 kugler did an about…face and stayed with us until one…thirty。 then he took off his shoes and went in his stockinged feet （despite his cold） to the front attic and down the other stairway； taking one step at a time to avoid the creaks。 it took him fifteen minutes to negotiate the stairs； but he wound up safely in the office after having entered from the outside。
in the meantime； bep had gotten rid of van maaren and e to get mr。 kugler from the annex。 but hed already left and at that moment was still tiptoeing down the stairs。 what must the passersby have thought when they saw the manager putting on his shoes outside？ hey； you there； in the socks！
yours； anne
wednesday； september 29； 1943
dearest kitty；
its mrs。 van daans birthday。 other than one ration stamp each for cheese； meat and bread； all she received from us was a jar of jam。 her husband； dussel and the office staff gave her nothing but flowers and also food。 such are the times we live in！
bep had a nervous fit last week because she had so many errands to do。 ten times a day people were sending her out for something； each time insisting she go right away or go again or that shed done it all wrong。 and when you think that she has her regular office work to do； that mr。 kleiman is sick； that miep is home with a cold and that bep herself has a sprained ankle； boyfriend troubles and a grouchy father； its no wonder shes at the end of her tether。 we forted her and told her that if shed put her foot down once or twice and say she didnt have the time； the shopping lists would shrink of their own accord。
saturday there was a big drama； the likes of which have never been seen here before。
it started with a discussion of van maaren and ended in a general argument and tears。
dussel plained to mother that he was being treated like a leper； that no one was friendly to him and that； after all； he hadnt done anything to deserve it。 this was followed by a lot of sweet talk； which luckily mother didnt fall for this time。 she told him we were disappointed in him and that； on more than one occasion； hed been a source of great annoyance。 dussel promised her the moon； but； as usual； we havent seen so much as a beam。
theres trouble brewing with the van daans； i can tell！ fathers furious because theyre cheating us： theyve been holding back meat and other things。 oh； what kind of
bombshell is about to burst now？ if only i werent so involved in all these skirmishes！
if only i could leave here！ theyre driving us crazy！
yours； anne
w w w/xiao shu otx t
OCTOBER； 1943
锛堝皬锛忚锛弔锛弜t锝滃ぉ锝滃爞锛�
sunday； october 17； 1943
dearest kitty；
mr。 kleiman is back； thank goodness！ he looks a bit pale； and yet he cheerfully set off to sell some clothes for mr。 van daan。 the disagreeable fact is that mr。 van daan has run out of money。 he lost his last hundred guilders in the warehouse； which is still creating trouble for us： the men are wondering how a hundred guilders could wind up in the warehouse on a monday morning。 suspicion abounds。 meanwhile； the hundred guilders have been stolen。 whos the thief？
but i was talking about the money shortage。 mrs。 van d。 has scads of dresses； coats and shoes； none of which she feels she can do without。 mr。 van d。s suit is difficult to sell； and peters bike was put on the block； but is back again； since nobody wanted it。
but the story doesnt end there。 you see； mrs。 van d。 is going to have to part with her fur coat。 in her opinion； the firm should pay for our upkeep； but thats ridiculous。
they just had a flaming row about it and have entered the 〃oh； my sweet putti〃 and 〃darling kerli〃 stage of reconciliation。
my mind boggles at the profanity this honorable house has had to endure in the past month。 father walks around with his lips pressed together； and whenever he hears his name； he looks up in alarm； as ifhes afraid hell be called upon to resolve another delicate problem。 mothers so wrought up her cheeks are blotched with red； margot plains of headaches； dussel cant sleep； mrs。 van d。 frets and fumes all day long； and ive gone pletely round the bend。 to tell you the truth； i sometimes forget who were at odds with and who were not。 the only way to take my mind off it is to study； and ive been doing a lot of that lately。
yours； anne
friday； october 29；1943
my dearest kitty；
mr。 kleiman is out again； his stomach wont give him a moments peace。 he doesnt even know whether its stopped bleeding。 he came to tell us he wasnt feeling well
and was going home； and for the first time he seemed really down。
mr。 and mrs。 van d。 have had more raging battles。 the reason is simple： theyre broke。 they wanted to sell an overcoat and a suit of mr。 van d。 s； but were unable to find any buyers。 his prices were way too high。
some time ago mr。 kleiman was talking about a furrier he knows。 this gave mr。 van d。 the idea of selling his wifes fur coat。 its made of rabbit skin； and shes had it for seventeen years。 mrs。 van d。 got 325 guilders for it； an enormous amount。 she wanted to keep the money herself to buy new clothes after the war； and it took some doing before mr。 van d。 could make her understand that it was desperately needed to cover household expenses。
you cant imagine the screaming； shouting； stamping of feet and swearing that went on。
it was terrifying。 my family stood holding its breath at the bottom of the stairs； in case it might be necessary to drag them apart。 all the bickering； tears and nervous tension have bee such a stress and strain that i fall into my bed at night crying and thanking my lucky stars that i have half an hour to myself。
im doing fine； except ive got no appetite。 i keep hearing： 〃goodness； you look awful！〃 i must admit theyre doing their best to keep me in condition： theyre plying me with dextrose； cod…liver oil； brewers yeast and calcium。 my nerves often get the better of me； especially on sundays； thats when i really feel miserable。 the atmosphere is stifling； sluggish； leaden。 outside； you dont hear a single bird； and a deathly； oppressive silence hangs over the house and clings to me as if it were going to drag me into t