It took three days for Beloved to notice the orange patches in the darkness of the quilt. Denver waspleased because it kept her patient awake longer. She seemed totally taken with those faded scrapsof orange, even made the effort to lean on her elbow and stroke them. An effort that quicklyexhausted her, so Denver rearranged the quilt so its cheeriest part was in the sick girl's sight line.
Patience, something Denver had never known, overtook her. As long as her mother did notinterfere, she was a model of compassion, turning waspish, though, when Sethe tried to help.
"Did she take a spoonful of anything today?" Sethe inquired.
"She shouldn't eat with cholera."
"You sure that's it? Was just a hunch of Paul D's."
"I don't know, but she shouldn't eat anyway just yet."
"I think cholera people puke all the time."
"That's even more reason, ain't it?"
"Well she shouldn't starve to death either, Denver."
"Leave us alone, Ma'am. I'm taking care of her."
"She say anything?"
"I'd let you know if she did."
Sethe looked at her daughter and thought, Yes, she has been lonesome. Very lonesome.
"Wonder where Here Boy got off to?" Sethe thought a change of subject was needed.
"He won't be back," said Denver.
"How you know?"
"I just know." Denver took a square of sweet bread off the plate.
Back in the keeping room,Denver was about to sit down when Beloved's eyes flew wide open. Denver felt her heart race. Itwasn't that she was looking at that face for the first time with no trace of sleep in it, or that the eyeswere big and black. Nor was it that the whites of them were much too white — blue-white. It wasthat deep down in those big black eyes there was no expression at all.
"Can I get you something?"