saturday, march 4, 1944

dear kitty,

this is the first saturday in months that hasn't been tiresome, dreary and boring. the reason is peter. this morning as i was on my way to the attic to hang up my apron, father asked whether i wanted to stay and practice my french, and i said yes. we spoke french together for a while and i explained something to peter, and then we worked on our english. father read aloud from dickens, and i was in seventh heaven, since i was sitting on father's chair, close to peter.

i went downstairs at quarter to eleven. when i went back up at eleven-thirty, peter was already waiting for me on the stairs. we talked until quarter to one. whenever i leave the room, for example after a meal, and peter has a chance and no one else can hear, he says, "bye, anne, see you later."

oh, i'm so happy! i wonder if he's going to fall in love with me after all? in any case, he's a nice boy, and you have no idea how good it is to talk to him!

mrs. van d. thinks it's all right for me to talk to

peter, but today she asked me teasingly, "can i trust you two up there?"

"of course," i protested. "i take that as an insult!"

morning, noon and night, i look forward to seeing peter.

yours, anne m. frank

ps. before i forget, last night everything was blanketed in snow. now it's thawed and there's almost nothing left.