And these are the granddaughters of a millionaire. The world is a queer place!
Yours, Anne
Tuesday, 9 May, 1944
Dear Kitty, I’ve finished my story of Ellen the fairy. I have copied it out on nice note paper. It certainly looks very attractive, but is it really enough for Daddy’s birthday? I don’t know. Margot and Mummy have both written poems for him.
Mr. Kugler came upstairs this afternoon with the news that Mrs. B., who used to act as demonstrator for the business, wants to eat her box lunch in the office here at 2 o’clock every afternoon. Think of it! No one can come upstairs any more, the potatoes cannot be delivered, Bep can’t have any dinner, we can’t go to the W.C., we mustn’t move, etc. We thought up the wildest and most varied suggestions to wheedle her away. van Daan thought that a good laxative in her coffee would be sufficient. “No,” replied Kleiman, “I beg of you not, then we’d never get her off the box!”
Resounding laughter. “Off the box,” asked Mrs. van Daan, “what does that mean?” An explanation followed. “Can I always use it?” she then asked stupidly. “Imagine,” Bep giggled, “if one asked for the box at the Bijenkorf, they wouldn’t even understand what you mean!”
Oh, Kit, it’s such wonderful weather, if only I could go outdoors!
Yours, Anne
