Bolt upright in the chair, in themiddle of Sethe's welcome, Beloved had fallen asleep again.
"Miss. Miss." Paul D shook her gently.
"You want to lay down a spell?"
She opened her eyes to slits and stood up on her soft new feet which, barely capable of their job,slowly bore her to the keeping room. Once there, she collapsed on Baby Suggs' bed. Denverremoved her hat and put the quilt with two squares of color over her feet. She was breathing like asteam engine.
"Sounds like croup," said Paul D, closing the door.
"Is she feverish? Denver, could you tell?"
"No. She's cold."
"Then she is. Fever goes from hot to cold."
"Could have the cholera," said Paul D.
"Reckon ?"
"All that water. Sure sign."
"Poor thing. And nothing in this house to give her for it. She'll just have to ride it out. That's ahateful sickness if ever there was one."
"She's not sick!" said Denver, and the passion in her voice made them smile.
Four days she slept, waking and sitting up only for water. Denver tended her, watched her sound sleep, listened to her labored breathing and, out of love and a breakneck possessiveness thatcharged her, hid like a personal blemish Beloved's incontinence.
She rinsed the sheets secretly,after Sethe went to the restaurant and Paul D went scrounging for barges to help unload. Sheboiled the underwear and soaked it in bluing, praying the fever would pass without damage. Sointent was her nursing, she forgot to eat or visit the emerald closet.
"Beloved?" Denver wouldwhisper.
"Beloved?" and when the black eyes opened a slice all she could say was "I'm here. I'mstill here."
Sometimes, when Beloved lay dreamy-eyed for a very long time, saying nothing, licking her lipsand heaving deep sighs, Denver panicked.
"What is it?" she would ask.
"Heavy," murmured Beloved. "This place is heavy."
"Would you like to sit up?"
"No," said the raspy voice.