She warmed to him fast, her anger was much harder to carry than the pleasant everyday neutrality of affection. News was sent back home, and in October, Marina traveled to Florence to live with her daughter again. At first she thought he was endeavouring to rid himself of the fleas, but after a time she came to understand that the muck had healing qualities and soothed the burning scratches made by his claws. "I was about to add," continued Gay, "that my opera shall have no music except the good old ballad tunes. My foster mother, Janine, wasn’t much fatter. She felt that she became more familiar with the floor during the time that he stayed than with any particular person. How long wilt thou forget me, O Lord? for ever? How long wilt thou hide thy face from me? She came upon the Song of Songs—which had been pasted down in the Enschede Bible—the burning litany of love; and from time to time she intoned some verse of tender lyric beauty.
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