Yuri shook his head. "No, it makes sense. I've felt that way in the men's chorus... particularly in Russian liturgy. And I don't know if I'd call myself pious, or a believer..." He trailed off, failing to find the words to articulate what he meant. "But even if it isn't real, and I don't know if it is, it's still rather peaceful. Unless you're reading music set to psalms about hellfire and damnation." He grinned.
"Katya..." Yuri sunk into his seat. He was silent for so long that it might have appeared she'd offended him, but finally, his eyes faraway, he said, "She wanted to be read to, constantly. Jenny hated it because she's not really a reader herself... And she sang, all the time. All of her toys had their own songs, and she just made them up out of her head." Then he laughed, and touched his mouth thoughtfully. "The songs started coming out of her before she learned to put words to them, though they sounded like wails to anyone else. 'We-do, we-do, we-do, Birdy, kitty, doggy, we-do, my doggy's name is we-do.' That's how one of them went..."