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Der dritte Mann - pp 92
Martins zog weiter: Im Maxim tanzten etliche Paare in trübsinniger Stimmung, und in einem Lokal, das sich Chez Victor nannte, hatte die Heizung versagt, und die Gäste saßen bei ihren Cocktails im Wintermantel.
Near fragment in time
This is the story of Gigi, the famous marry-go-round horse of the Prater, in Vienna.
The Prater was a large park, […]. There where benches under the linden trees, and little iron railings to keep people off the grass. […]
But the other half of the park – the Wurstelprater – was full of children. „Wurstel“ means „Punch“, and on this side of the park you could find the nurses, the perambulators, and the Punch and the Judy show.
pp 1-2 from Gigi: The Story of a Merry-Go-Round Horse by
The Prater was a large park, […]. There where benches under the linden trees, and little iron railings to keep people off the grass. […]
But the other half of the park – the Wurstelprater – was full of children. „Wurstel“ means „Punch“, and on this side of the park you could find the nurses, the perambulators, and the Punch and the Judy show.
Near fragment in space
I have just made a complete fool of myself. I went to see Alice to tell her about Herr Huber's visit and on the way back I thought I saw across the width of the Kärntner Ring a figure that I recognized.
Yes, I was sure that I knew that soldier in the uniform of the Bohemian Dragoons with his slow gait and clumsy boots. I even thought I could smell across the heads of the fashionable crowd who promenaded there, the whiff of the raw onions that nothing can prevent Corporal Hatschek from chewing when he is off duty. And my heart raced, excitement coursed through me - and I lifted my skirts ready to hurry across the road.
But the Ringstrasse is wide, the hansom cabs are never in a hurry. By the time I'd reached the other side there was no sign of him.
I'd imagined him then. Conjured him up out of my deepest need. It's not the first time that I've run across the road like a homesick child towards this onion-chewing corporal and found he was a mirage. Well, so be it. There is only one cure for what ails me, and thank heaven I have it in abundance. Work.
pp 41 from Madensky Square by
Yes, I was sure that I knew that soldier in the uniform of the Bohemian Dragoons with his slow gait and clumsy boots. I even thought I could smell across the heads of the fashionable crowd who promenaded there, the whiff of the raw onions that nothing can prevent Corporal Hatschek from chewing when he is off duty. And my heart raced, excitement coursed through me - and I lifted my skirts ready to hurry across the road.
But the Ringstrasse is wide, the hansom cabs are never in a hurry. By the time I'd reached the other side there was no sign of him.
I'd imagined him then. Conjured him up out of my deepest need. It's not the first time that I've run across the road like a homesick child towards this onion-chewing corporal and found he was a mirage. Well, so be it. There is only one cure for what ails me, and thank heaven I have it in abundance. Work.