That evening Mr. van Daan and Peter really told Dussel off. But it couldn't have been all that bad, since Peter had another dental appointment today.
Actually, they never wanted to speak to each other again.
WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 16, 1944
Peter and I hadn't talked to each other all day, except for a few meaningless words.
It was too cold to go up to the attic, and anyway, it was Margot's birthday.
At twelve-thirty he came to look at the presents and hung around chatting longer than was strictly necessary,
something he'd never have done otherwise. But I got my chance in the afternoon.
Since I felt like spoiling Margot on her birthday, I went to get the coffee, and after that the potatoes.
When I came to Peter's room, he immediately took his papers off the stairs, and I asked if I should close the trapdoor to the attic.
“Sure,” he said, “go ahead. When you're ready to come back down, just knock and I'll open it for you.”
I thanked him, went upstairs and spent at least ten minutes searching around in the barrel for the smallest potatoes.
My back started aching, and the attic was cold. Naturally, I didn't bother to knock but opened the trap-door myself.
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