"I kissed her neck. I didn't choke it. The circle of iron choked it."
"I saw you." Denver grabbed Beloved's arm.
"Look out, girl," said Beloved and, snatching her arm away, ran ahead as fast as she could alongthe stream that sang on the other side of the woods.
Left alone, Denver wondered if, indeed, she had been wrong. She and Beloved were standing inthe trees whispering, while Sethe sat on the rock. Denver knew that the Clearing used to be whereBaby Suggs preached, but that was when she was a baby. She had never been there herself toremember it. 124 and the field behind it were all the world she knew or wanted.
Once upon a time she had known more and wanted to. Had walked the path leading to a real otherhouse. Had stood outside the window listening. Four times she did it on her own — crept awayfrom 124 early in the afternoon when her mother and grandmother had their guard down, justbefore supper, after chores; the blank hour before gears changed to evening occupations. Denverhad walked off looking for the house other children visited but not her. When she found it she wastoo timid to go to the front door so she peeped in the window. Lady Jones sat in a straight-backedchair; several children sat cross-legged on the floor in front of her. Lady Jones had a book. Thechildren had slates. Lady Jones was saying something too soft for Denver to hear. The childrenwere saying it after her. Four times Denver went to look. The fifth time Lady Jones caught her and said, "Come in the front door, Miss Denver. This is not a side show."