This gave me rather a pang, it seems such a pity that there’s always just a tinge of dishonesty about him. For the rest, we chatted very pleasantly about Daddy, and about judging people’s characters and all kinds of things, I can’t remember exactly what now.
It was half past four by the time I left.
In the evening, he said something else that I thought was nice. We were talking about a picture of a film star that I’d given him once, which has now been hanging in his room for at least a year and a half. He liked it very much and I offered to give him a few more sometime. “No,” he replied, “I’d rather leave it like this. I look at these every day and they have grown to be my friends.” Now I understand more why he always hugs Mouschi. He needs some affection, too, of course.
I’d forgotten something else that he talked about. He said, “I don’t know what fear is, except when I think of my own shortcomings. But I’m getting over that too.” Peter has a terrible inferiority complex. For instance, he always thinks that he is so stupid, and we are so clever. If I help him with his French, he thanks me a thousand times. One day I shall turn around and say, “Oh, shut up, you’re much better at English and Geography!”
Yours, Anne
Friday, 18 February, 1944
Dear Kitty, Whenever I go upstairs now, I keep on hoping that I shall see 'him.' Because my life now has an object, and I have something to look forward to, everything has become more pleasant.
At least the object of my feelings is always there, and I needn’t be afraid of rivals, except Margot. Don’t think I’m in love, because I’m not, but I do have the feeling all the time that something fine can grow up between us,
