“When I called on Pan in the fog out there, I touched something.’ ‘What was it?’ ‘I've no idea.’ ‘What did it feel like?’ ‘Like alcohol on an empty stomach.’ ‘Ever get that feeling in church?’ ‘Only once. In the school chapel, when they had a farewell service to a party of us who were joining up. A different kind of force, but it came through with a rush in just the same way. The old padre was crying while he prayed. I've never felt anything but the draught in my brother's church, though.”