As I sat in front of a café on the modern quay, sipping my second glass of maraschino at what claimed to be the original maraschino establishment in the city, and looked off at the eight Austrian war-ships lying off the shore, a feeling of “change from the old to the new” came over me. Just then such a sunset as is rarely vouchsafed to man was transpiring. The blood-red sun of double size was setting in the illumined sea. I took it as a signal that my Dalmatian journey was at an end. Pola and Fiume I already knew, and Trieste was a common mart. I went back to the steamer.
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Transcriber’s Note
Minor errors or inconsistencies in punctuation have been corrected silently. The pages referred to in the following remarks refer to the original printed edition.
On p. 9, the phrases regarding an inscription introduced with “It read thus:”, include an unbalanced quotation mark, but it is not clear where it should be placed, or which might be spurious.