[guide.chat] play anne frank scene 1 and 2
- From: vanessa <qwerty1234567a@xxxxxxxxx>
- To: "GUIDE CHAT" <guide.chat@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
- Date: Sun, 26 Feb 2012 18:15:14 -0000
The Diary of Anne Frank
Frances Goodrich and Albert Hackett
Characters
Occupants of the Secret Annex:
Anne Frank
Margot Frank, her older sister
Mr. Frank, their father
Mrs. Frank, their mother
Peter Van Daan
Mr. Van Daan, his father
Mrs. Van Daan, his mother
Mr. Dussel, a dentist
Workers in Mr. Frank?s Business:
Miep Gies, a young Dutchwoman
Mr. Kraler, a Dutchman
Setting: Amsterdam, the Netherlands, July 1942 to August 1944; November 1945.
SCENE 1
The scene remains the same throughout the play. It is the top floor of a
warehouse and office building in Amsterdam, Holland. The sharply peaked roof of
the building is outlined against a sea of other rooftops stretching away into
the distance. Nearby is the belfry of a church tower, the Westertoren, whose
carillon rings out the hours. Occasionally faint sounds float up from below:
the voices of children playing in the street, the tramp of marching feet, a
boat whistle from the canal.
The three rooms of the top floor and a small attic space above are exposed to
our view. The largest of the rooms is in the center, with two small rooms,
slightly raised, on either side. On the right is a bathroom, out of sight. A
narrow, steep flight of stairs at the back leads up to the attic. The rooms are
sparsely furnished, with a few chairs, cots, a table or two. The windows are
painted over or covered with makeshift blackout curtains. In the main room
there is a sink, a gas ring for cooking, and a wood-burning stove for warmth.
The room on the left is hardly more than a closet. There is a skylight in the
sloping ceiling. Directly under this room is a small, steep stairwell, with
steps leading down to a door. This is the only entrance from the building
below. When the door is opened, we see that it has been concealed on the outer
side by a bookcase attached to it.
The curtain rises on an empty stage. It is late afternoon, November 1945.
The rooms are dusty, the curtains in rags. Chairs and tables are overturned.
The door at the foot of the small stairwell swings open. MR. FRANK comes up the
steps into view. He is a gentle, cultured European in his middle years. There
is still a trace of a German accent in his speech.
He stands looking slowly around, making a supreme effort at self-control. He is
weak, ill. His clothes are thread-bare.
After a second he drops his rucksack on the couch and moves slowly about. He
opens the door to one of the smaller rooms and then abruptly closes it again,
turning away. He goes to the window at the back, looking off at the Westertoren
as its carillon strikes the hour of six; then he moves restlessly on.
From the street below we hear the sound of a barrel organ and children?s voices
at play. There is a many-colored scarf hanging from a nail. MR. FRANK takes it,
putting it around his neck. As he starts back for his rucksack, his eye is
caught by something lying on the floor. It is a woman?s white glove. He holds
it in his hand and suddenly all of his self-control is gone. He breaks down
crying.
We hear footsteps on the stairs. MIEP GIES comes up, looking for MR. FRANK.
MIEP is a Dutchwoman of about twenty-two. She wears a coat and hat, ready to go
home. She is pregnant. Her attitude toward MR. FRANK is protective,
compassionate.
Miep. Are you all right, Mr. Frank?
Mr. Frank (quickly controlling himself ). Yes, Miep, yes.
Miep. Everyone in the office has gone home. . . . It?s after six. (Then,
pleading) Don?t stay up here, Mr. Frank. What?s the use of torturing yourself
like this?
Mr. Frank. I?ve come to say goodbye . . . I?m leaving here, Miep.
Miep. What do you mean? Where are you going? Where?
Mr. Frank. I don?t know yet. I haven?t decided.
Miep. Mr. Frank, you can?t leave here! This is your home! Amsterdam is your
home. Your business is here, waiting for you. . . . You?re needed here. . . .
Now that the war is over, there are things that . . .
Mr. Frank. I can?t stay in Amsterdam, Miep. It has too many memories for me.
Everywhere, there?s something . . . the house we lived in . . . the school . .
. that street organ playing out there . . . I?m not the person you used to
know, Miep. I?m a bitter old man. (Breaking off) Forgive me. I shouldn?t speak
to you like this . . . after all that you did for us . . . the suffering . . .
Miep. No. No. It wasn?t suffering. You can?t say we suffered. (As she speaks,
she straightens a chair which is overturned.)
Mr. Frank. I know what you went through, you and Mr. Kraler. I?ll remember it
as long as I live. (He gives one last look around.) Come, Miep. (He starts for
the steps, then remembers his rucksack, going back to get it.)
Miep (hurrying up to a cupboard). Mr. Frank, did you see? There are some of
your papers here. (She brings a bundle of papers to him.) We found them in a
heap of rubbish on the floor after . . . after you left.
Mr. Frank. Burn them. (He opens his rucksack to put the glove in it.)
Miep. But, Mr. Frank, there are letters, notes . . .
Mr. Frank. Burn them. All of them.
Miep. Burn this? (She hands him a paper-bound notebook.)
Mr. Frank (quietly). Anne?s diary. (He opens the diary and begins to read.)
?Monday, the sixth of July, nineteen forty-two.? (To MIEP) Nineteen forty-two.
Is it possible, Miep? . . . Only three years ago. (As he continues his reading,
he sits down on the couch.) ?Dear Diary, since you and I are going to be great
friends, I will start by telling you about myself. My name is Anne Frank. I am
thirteen years old. I was born in Germany the twelfth of June, nineteen
twenty-nine. As my family is Jewish, we emigrated to Holland when Hitler came
to power.?
[As MR. FRANK reads on, another voice joins his, as if coming from the air. It
is ANNE?s voice. ]
Mr. Frank and Anne?s Voice. ?My father started a business, importing spice and
herbs. Things went well for us until nineteen forty. Then the war came, and the
Dutch capitulation, followed by the arrival of the Germans. Then things got
very bad for the Jews.?
[MR. FRANK?s voice dies out. ANNE?s voice continues alone. The lights dim
slowly to darkness. The curtain falls on the scene.]
Anne?s Voice. You could not do this and you could not do that. They forced
Father out of his business. We had to wear yellow stars. I had to turn in my
bike. I couldn?t go to a Dutch school anymore. I couldn?t go to the movies or
ride in an automobile or even on a streetcar, and a million other things. But
somehow we children still managed to have fun. Yesterday Father told me we were
going into hiding. Where, he wouldn?t say. At five o?clock this morning Mother
woke me and told me to hurry and get dressed. I was to put on as many clothes
as I could. It would look too suspicious if we walked along carrying suitcases.
It wasn?t until we were on our way that I learned where we were going. Our
hiding place was to be upstairs in the building where Father used to have his
business. Three other people were coming in with us . . . the Van Daans and
their son Peter . . . Father knew the Van Daans but we had never met them. . .
.
[During the last lines the curtain rises on the scene. The lights dim on.
ANNE?s voice fades out.]
SCENE 2
It is early morning, July 1942. The rooms are bare, as before, but they are now
clean and orderly.
MR. VAN DAAN, a tall, portly man in his late forties, is in the main room,
pacing up and down, nervously smoking a cigarette. His clothes and overcoat are
expensive and well cut.
MRS. VAN DAAN sits on the couch, clutching her possessions: a hatbox, bags,
etc. She is a pretty woman in her early forties. She wears a fur coat over her
other clothes.
PETER VAN DAAN is standing at the window of the room on the right, looking down
at the street below. He is a shy, awkward boy of sixteen. He wears a cap, a
raincoat, and long Dutch trousers, like plus fours.6 At his feet is a black
case, a carrier for his cat.
The yellow Star of David is conspicuous on all of their clothes.
Mrs. Van Daan (rising, nervous, excited). Something?s happened to them! I know
it!
Mr. Van Daan. Now, Kerli!
Mrs. Van Daan. Mr. Frank said they?d be here at seven o?clock. He said . . .
Mr. Van Daan. They have two miles to walk. You can?t expect . . .
Mrs. Van Daan. They?ve been picked up. That?s what?s happened. They?ve been
taken . . .
[MR. VAN DAAN indicates that he hears someone coming.]
Mr. Van Daan. You see?
[PETER takes up his carrier and his school bag, etc., and goes into the main
room as MR. FRANK comes up the stairwell from below. MR. FRANK looks much
younger now. His movements are brisk, his manner confident. He wears an
overcoat and carries his hat and a small cardboard box. He crosses to the VAN
DAANS, shaking hands with each of them.]
Mr. Frank. Mrs. Van Daan, Mr. Van Daan, Peter. (Then, in explanation of their
lateness) There were too many of the Green Police on the streets . . . we had
to take the long way around.
[Up the steps come MARGOT FRANK, MRS. FRANK, MIEP (not pregnant now), and MR.
KRALER. All of them carry bags, packages, and so forth. The Star of David is
conspicuous on all of the FRANKS? clothing. MARGOT is eighteen, beautiful,
quiet, shy. MRS. FRANK is a young mother, gently bred, reserved. She, like MR.
FRANK, has a slight German accent. MR. KRALER is a Dutchman, dependable,
kindly.
As MR. KRALER and MIEP go upstage to put down their parcels, MRS. FRANK turns
back to call ANNE.]
Mrs. Frank. Anne?
[ANNE comes running up the stairs. She is thirteen, quick in her movements,
interested in everything, mercurial in her emotions. She wears a cape and long
wool socks and carries a school bag.]
Mr. Frank (introducing them). My wife, Edith. Mr. and Mrs. Van Daan (MRS. FRANK
hurries over, shaking hands with them.) . . . their son, Peter . . . my
daughters, Margot and Anne.
[ANNE gives a polite little curtsy as she shakes MR. VAN DAAN?s hand. Then she
immediately starts off on a tour of investigation of her new home, going
upstairs to the attic room.
MIEP and MR. KRALER are putting the various things they have brought on the
shelves.]
Mr. Kraler. I?m sorry there is still so much confusion.
Mr. Frank. Please. Don?t think of it. After all, we?ll have plenty of leisure
to arrange everything ourselves.
Miep (to MRS. FRANK). We put the stores of food you sent in here. Your drugs
are here . . . soap, linen here.
Mrs. Frank. Thank you, Miep.
Miep. I made up the beds . . . the way Mr. Frank and Mr. Kraler said. (She
starts out.) Forgive me. I have to hurry. I?ve got to go to the other side of
town to get some ration books for you.
Mrs. Van Daan. Ration books? If they see our names on ration books, they?ll
know we?re here.
Mr. Kraler (speaking at the same time as MIEP). There isn?t anything . . .
Miep. Don?t worry. Your names won?t be on them. (As she hurries out) I?ll be up
later.
Mr. Frank. Thank you, Miep.
Mrs. Frank (to MR. KRALER). It?s illegal, then, the ration books? We?ve never
done anything illegal.
Mr. Frank. We won?t be living here exactly according to regulations.
[As MR. KRALER reassures MRS. FRANK, he takes various small things, such as
matches and soap, from his pockets, handing them to her.]
Mr. Kraler. This isn?t the black market, Mrs. Frank. This is what we call the
white market . . . helping all of the hundreds and hundreds who are hiding out
in Amsterdam.
[The carillon is heard playing the quarter-hour before eight. MR. KRALER looks
at his watch. ANNE stops at the window as she comes down the stairs.]
Anne. It?s the Westertoren!
Mr. Kraler. I must go. I must be out of here and downstairs in the office
before the workmen get here. (He starts for the stairs leading out.) Miep or I,
or both of us, will be up each day to bring you food and news and find out what
your needs are. Tomorrow I?ll get you a better bolt for the door at the foot of
the stairs. It needs a bolt that you can throw yourself and open only at our
signal. (To MR. FRANK) Oh . . . You?ll tell them about the noise?
Mr. Frank. I?ll tell them.
Mr. Kraler. Goodbye, then, for the moment. I?ll come up again, after the
workmen leave.
Mr. Frank. Goodbye, Mr. Kraler.
Mrs. Frank (shaking his hand). How can we thank you?
[The others murmur their goodbyes.]
Mr. Kraler. I never thought I?d live to see the day when a man like Mr. Frank
would have to go into hiding. When you think??
[He breaks off, going out. MR. FRANK follows him down the steps, bolting the
door after him. In the interval before he returns, PETER goes over to MARGOT,
shaking hands with her. As MR. FRANK comes back up the steps, MRS. FRANK
questions him anxiously.]
Mrs. Frank. What did he mean, about the noise?
Mr. Frank. First let us take off some of these clothes.
[They all start to take off garment after garment. On each of their coats,
sweaters, blouses, suits, dresses is another yellow Star of David. MR. and MRS.
FRANK are underdressed quite simply. The others wear several things: sweaters,
extra dresses, bathrobes, aprons, nightgowns, etc.]
Mr. Van Daan. It?s a wonder we weren?t arrested, walking along the streets . .
. Petronella with a fur coat in July . . . and that cat of Peter?s crying all
the way.
Anne (as she is removing a pair of panties). A cat?
Mrs. Frank (shocked). Anne, please!
Anne. It?s all right. I?ve got on three more.
[She pulls off two more. Finally, as they have all removed their surplus
clothes, they look to MR. FRANK, waiting for him to speak.]
Mr. Frank. Now. About the noise. While the men are in the building below, we
must have complete quiet. Every sound can be heard down there, not only in the
workrooms but in the offices too. The men come at about eight-thirty and leave
at about five-thirty. So, to be perfectly safe, from eight in the morning until
six in the evening we must move only when it is necessary, and then in
stockinged feet. We must not speak above a whisper. We must not run any water.
We cannot use the sink or even, forgive me, the w.c. The pipes go down through
the workrooms. It would be heard. No trash . . . (MR. FRANK stops abruptly as
he hears the sound of marching feet from the street below. Everyone is
motionless, paralyzed with fear. MR. FRANK goes quietly into the room on the
right to look down out of the window. ANNE runs after him, peering out with
him. The tramping feet pass without stopping. The tension is relieved. MR.
FRANK, followed by ANNE, returns to the main room and resumes his instructions
to the group.) . . . No trash must ever be thrown out which might reveal that
someone is living up here . . . not even a potato paring. We must burn
everything in the stove at night. This is the way we must live until it is
over, if we are to survive.
[There is silence for a second.]
Mrs. Frank. Until it is over.
Mr. Frank (reassuringly). After six we can move about . . . we can talk and
laugh and have our supper and read and play games . . . just as we would at
home. (He looks at his watch.) And now I think it would be wise if we all went
to our rooms, and were settled before eight o?clock. Mrs. Van Daan, you and
your husband will be upstairs. I regret that there?s no place up there for
Peter. But he will be here, near us. This will be our common room, where we?ll
meet to talk and eat and read, like one family.
Mr. Van Daan. And where do you and Mrs. Frank sleep?
Mr. Frank. This room is also our bedroom.
Mrs. Van Daan. (speaking at the same time as MR. VAN DAAN). That isn?t right.
We?ll sleep here and you take the room upstairs.
Mr. Van Daan. It?s your place.
Mr. Frank. Please. I?ve thought this out for weeks. It?s the best arrangement.
The only arrangement.
Mrs. Van Daan (to MR. FRANK). Never, never can we thank you. (Then, to MRS.
FRANK) I don?t know what would have happened to us, if it hadn?t been for Mr.
Frank.
Mr. Frank. You don?t know how your husband helped me when I came to this
country . . . knowing no one . . . not able to speak the language. I can never
repay him for that. (Going to MR. VAN DAAN) May I help you with your things?
Mr. Van Daan. No. No. (To MRS. VAN DAAN) Come along, liefje.
Mrs. Van Daan. You?ll be all right, Peter? You?re not afraid?
Peter (embarrassed). Please, Mother.
[They start up the stairs to the attic room above. MR. FRANK turns to MRS.
FRANK.]
Mr. Frank. You too must have some rest, Edith. You didn?t close your eyes last
night. Nor you, Margot.
Anne. I slept, Father. Wasn?t that funny? I knew it was the last night in my
own bed, and yet I slept soundly.
Mr. Frank. I?m glad, Anne. Now you?ll be able to help me straighten things in
here. (To MRS. FRANK and MARGOT) Come with me. . . . You and Margot rest in
this room for the time being. (He picks up their clothes, starting for the room
on the right.)
Mrs. Frank. You?re sure . . . ? I could help . . . And Anne hasn?t had her milk
. . .
Mr. Frank. I?ll give it to her. (To ANNE and PETER) Anne, Peter . . . it?s best
that you take off your shoes now, before you forget. (He leads the way to the
room, followed by MARGOT.)
Mrs. Frank. You?re sure you?re not tired, Anne?
Anne. I feel fine. I?m going to help Father.
Mrs. Frank. Peter, I?m glad you are to be with us.
Peter. Yes, Mrs. Frank.
[MRS. FRANK goes to join MR. FRANK and MARGOT.
During the following scene MR. FRANK helps MARGOT and MRS. FRANK to hang up
their clothes. Then he persuades them both to lie down and rest. The VAN DAANS,
in their room above, settle themselves. In the main room ANNE and PETER remove
their shoes. PETER takes his cat out of the carrier.]
Anne. What?s your cat?s name?
Peter. Mouschi.
Anne. Mouschi! Mouschi! Mouschi! (She picks up the cat, walking away with it.
To PETER) I love cats. I have one . . . a darling little cat. But they made me
leave her behind. I left some food and a note for the neighbors to take care of
her. . . . I?m going to miss her terribly. What is yours? A him or a her?
Peter. He?s a tom. He doesn?t like strangers. (He takes the cat from her,
putting it back in its carrier.)
Anne (unabashed). Then I?ll have to stop being a stranger, won?t I? Is he
fixed?
Peter (startled). Huh?
Anne. Did you have him fixed?
Peter. No.
Anne. Oh, you ought to have him fixed?to keep him from?you know, fighting.
Where did you go to school?
Peter. Jewish Secondary.
Anne. But that?s where Margot and I go! I never saw you around.
Peter. I used to see you . . . sometimes . . .
Anne. You did?
Peter. . . . in the schoolyard. You were always in the middle of a bunch of
kids. (He takes a penknife from his pocket.)
Anne. Why didn?t you ever come over?
Peter. I?m sort of a lone wolf. (He starts to rip off his Star of David.)
Anne. What are you doing?
Peter. Taking it off.
Anne. But you can?t do that. They?ll arrest you if you go out without your
star.
[He tosses his knife on the table.]
Peter. Who?s going out?
Anne. Why, of course! You?re right! Of course we don?t need them anymore. (She
picks up his knife and starts to take her star off.) I wonder what our friends
will think when we don?t show up today?
Peter. I didn?t have any dates with anyone.
Anne. Oh, I did. I had a date with Jopie to go and play ping-pong at her house.
Do you know Jopie de Waal?14
Peter. No.
Anne. Jopie?s my best friend. I wonder what she?ll think when she telephones
and there?s no answer? . . . Probably she?ll go over to the house. . . . I
wonder what she?ll think . . . we left everything as if we?d suddenly been
called away . . . breakfast dishes in the sink . . . beds not made . . . (As
she pulls off her star, the cloth underneath shows clearly the color and form
of the star.) Look! It?s still there! (PETER goes over to the stove with his
star.) What?re you going to do with yours?
Peter. Burn it.
Anne. (She starts to throw hers in, and cannot.) It?s funny, I can?t throw mine
away. I don?t know why.
Peter. You can?t throw . . . ? Something they branded you with . . . ? That
they made you wear so they could spit on you?
Anne. I know. I know. But after all, it is the Star of David, isn?t it?
[In the bedroom, right, MARGOT and MRS. FRANK are lying down. MR. FRANK starts
quietly out.]
Peter. Maybe it?s different for a girl.
[MR. FRANK comes into the main room.]
Mr. Frank. Forgive me, Peter. Now let me see. We must find a bed for your cat.
(He goes to a cupboard.) I?m glad you brought your cat. Anne was feeling so
badly about hers. (Getting a used small washtub) Here we are. Will it be
comfortable in that?
Peter (gathering up his things). Thanks.
Mr. Frank (opening the door of the room on the left). And here is your room.
But I warn you, Peter, you can?t grow anymore. Not an inch, or you?ll have to
sleep with your feet out of the skylight. Are you hungry?
Peter. No.
Mr. Frank. We have some bread and butter.
Peter. No, thank you.
Mr. Frank. You can have it for luncheon then. And tonight we will have a real
supper . . . our first supper together.
Peter. Thanks. Thanks. (He goes into his room. During the following scene he
arranges his possessions in his new room.)
Mr. Frank. That?s a nice boy, Peter.
Anne. He?s awfully shy, isn?t he?
Mr. Frank. You?ll like him, I know.
Anne. I certainly hope so, since he?s the only boy I?m likely to see for months
and months.
[MR. FRANK sits down, taking off his shoes.]
Mr. Frank. Annele, there?s a box there. Will you open it?
[He indicates a carton on the couch. ANNE brings it to the center table. In the
street below, there is the sound of children playing.]
Anne (as she opens the carton). You know the way I?m going to think of it here?
I?m going to think of it as a boardinghouse. A very peculiar summer
boardinghouse, like the one that we??(She breaks off as she pulls out some
photographs.) Father! My movie stars! I was wondering where they were! I was
looking for them this morning . . . and Queen Wilhelmina! How wonderful!
Mr. Frank. There?s something more. Go on. Look further. (He goes over to the
sink, pouring a glass of milk from a thermos bottle.)
Anne ( pulling out a pasteboard-bound book). A diary! (She throws her arms
around her father.) I?ve never had a diary. And I?ve always longed for one.
(She looks around the room.) Pencil, pencil, pencil, pencil. (She starts down
the stairs.) I?m going down to the office to get a pencil.
Mr. Frank. Anne! No! (He goes after her, catching her by the arm and pulling
her back.)
Anne (startled). But there?s no one in the building now.
Mr. Frank. It doesn?t matter. I don?t want you ever to go beyond that door.
Anne (sobered). Never . . . ? Not even at nighttime, when everyone is gone? Or
on Sundays? Can?t I go down to listen to the radio?
Mr. Frank. Never. I am sorry, Anneke. It isn?t safe. No, you must never go
beyond that door.
[For the first time ANNE realizes what ?going into hiding? means.]
Anne. I see.
Mr. Frank. It?ll be hard, I know. But always remember this, Anneke. There are
no walls, there are no bolts, no locks that anyone can put on your mind. Miep
will bring us books. We will read history, poetry, mythology. (He gives her the
glass of milk.) Here?s your milk. (With his arm about her, they go over to the
couch, sitting down side by side.) As a matter of fact, between us, Anne, being
here has certain advantages for you. For instance, you remember the battle you
had with your mother the other day on the subject of overshoes? You said you?d
rather die than wear overshoes? But in the end you had to wear them? Well now,
you see, for as long as we are here, you will never have to wear overshoes!
Isn?t that good? And the coat that you inherited from Margot, you won?t have to
wear that anymore. And the piano! You won?t have to practice on the piano. I
tell you, this is going to be a fine life for you!
[ANNE?s panic is gone. PETER appears in the doorway of his room, with a saucer
in his hand. He is carrying his cat.]
Peter. I . . . I . . . I thought I?d better get some water for Mouschi before .
. .
Mr. Frank. Of course.
[As he starts toward the sink, the carillon begins to chime the hour of eight.
He tiptoes to the window at the back and looks down at the street below. He
turns to PETER, indicating in pantomime that it is too late. PETER starts back
for his room. He steps on a creaking board. The three of them are frozen for a
minute in fear. As PETER starts away again, ANNE tiptoes over to him and pours
some of the milk from her glass into the saucer for the cat. PETER squats on
the floor, putting the milk before the cat. MR. FRANK gives ANNE his fountain
pen and then goes into the room at the right. For a second ANNE watches the
cat; then she goes over to the center table and opens her diary.
In the room at the right, MRS. FRANK has sat up quickly at the sound of the
carillon. MR. FRANK comes in and sits down beside her on the settee, his arm
comfortingly around her.
Upstairs, in the attic room, MR. and MRS. VAN DAAN have hung their clothes in
the closet and are now seated on the iron bed. MRS. VAN DAAN leans back,
exhausted. MR. VAN DAAN fans her with a newspaper.
ANNE starts to write in her diary. The lights dim out; the curtain falls.
In the darkness ANNE?s voice comes to us again, faintly at first and then with
growing strength.]
Anne?s Voice. I expect I should be describing what it feels like to go into
hiding. But I really don?t know yet myself. I only know it?s funny never to be
able to go outdoors . . . never to breathe fresh air . . . never to run and
shout and jump. It?s the silence in the nights that frightens me most. Every
time I hear a creak in the house or a step on the street outside, I?m sure
they?re coming for us. The days aren?t so bad. At least we know that Miep and
Mr. Kraler are down there below us in the office. Our protectors, we call them.
I asked Father what would happen to them if the Nazis found out they were
hiding us. Pim said that they would suffer the same fate that we would. . . .
Imagine! They know this, and yet when they come up here, they?re always
cheerful and gay, as if there were nothing in the world to bother them. . . .
Friday, the twenty-first of August, nineteen forty-two. Today I?m going to tell
you our general news. Mother is unbearable. She insists on treating me like a
baby, which I loathe. Otherwise things are going better. The weather is . . .
[As ANNE?s voice is fading out, the curtain rises on the scene.]
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