Hugh acquiesced, wondering what in the world the word might be. Mrs Macintosh led the way up the maisonette stairs by which she had just descended, and then was nonplussed. She could not take him into her bedroom to talk to him, for that would not have been proper, though what harm either Mrs Macintosh's reputation or her person were likely to suffer at his hands was unimaginable. So they stood up solemnly on the dusty landing while she prepared to say her say, Mrs Macintosh bolt upright and Hugh draped over the nearest piece of furniture, as was his invariable custom.

The Goat Food God.... The Lord of the Hunt... Swift footed, keen eyed... To be approached with laughter and song... God of madness, dreams and healing... Sending armies mad and persuading young women to go on living... Beloved of all the gods, yet never resident on Olympus... Pan presents the modern reader with a series of, if not contradictions, then puzzles. Who was this deity - and who was he thought to be? What were the people who honoured him like, and why did they seek him out? In The Goat Foot God, Diotima takes a scholarly yet idiosyncratic look at Pan, as is only befitting the subject. Using the Homeric Hymn as a base, and moving beyond it, she examines what the ancients knew and thought about Pan. She moves on to the present day and finds no less puzzlement, asking how Pan might fit in with the modern feminist consciousness. There are more questions than answers herein, but that is entirely in keeping with the eponymous subject....