She curled herself over my back and her mouth was at my ear again. ‘I love you.’ Saturday As usual on a Saturday I took her breakfast in bed alt...ough I knew this was no normal Saturday. I sat at the end of the bed and watched her eating her toast and sipping her coffee and orange juice. There was sadness in her eyes and I knew why. She finished and I took the tray away then came back to her and sat again at the foot of the bed. I was in my long, red, silk nightdress with a robe on over it.. Wer hat das Tagebuch geschrieben und wann? Wer hat es dem Museum gespendet und in welcher Beziehung standen sie zu mir? Welches Museum möchte nicht ein Originaldokument aus dem 19. Jahrhundert besitzen, und warum könnte ein Tagebuch „weder zur Ausstellung noch zum Studium geeignet sein“?Der beste Ort, um diese Fragen zu beantworte, schien das in Leder gebundene Buch zu sein, das auf meinem Tisch lag, und ich löste mit ziemlicher Aufregung und Neugierde die Riemen und öffnete den Band.Ich war. More

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