PURSUIT 1

    I knew I was in Winchester, but which Winchester? I could not
    recall these narrow criss-crossing alleys, between booths and
    and stalls, like those of an oriental bazaar. I had just run
    through a large department store, or hotel maybe, of hushed
    respectability, with quaint half-landings and aspidistras
    and the faint sound of crockery from the kitchens,
    knowing that my quarry had been that way only moments before.
    Now he was in the alleys, somewhere ahead. I strained to
    sense his wake through the throng of shoppers, and offered
    up a prayer to Artemis, that she would indicate the side
    alley into which he must have darted.
    I was filled with a fierce joy, the joy of the chase, knowing that
    my limbs would follow the scent before I was aware myself in
    which direction they would turn. It was like careering through
    bracken, over rocky ground, knowing that even with eyes shut,
    I could not falter. I was the pursuer.

                                PURSUIT 2

    I knew I was in Winchester, but which Winchester? I could not
    recall these narrow criss-crossing alleys, between booths and
    and stalls, like those of an oriental bazaar. I had just run
    through a large department store, or hotel maybe, of hushed
    respectability, with quaint half-landings and aspidistras
    and the faint sound of crockery from the kitchens,
    knowing that my pursuer was only moments away.
    Now I was in the alleys, the station somewhere up the hill
    to my left. As I ran and darted this way and that, swallowed up
    by the throng of shoppers, I offered up a prayer of thanks to
    Artemis, who knows the secret ways of flight.
    I was filled with a fierce joy, the joy of the chase, knowing that
    my limbs would follow the path of safety before I was aware myself in
    which direction they would turn. It was like careering through
    bracken, over rocky ground, knowing that even with eyes shut,
    I could not falter.