He didn't remember such a cold winter in Vienna yet. Every 
time the door opened and a  cloud  of  cold  air  flew into the 
cafe, he shivered a little. For  a  long time  no new  visitors 
came,  and  Sigmund  fell  into a light senile nap, but now the 
door banged again, and he raised his head to look.
    Two newcomers just  entered the cafe - a whiskered  gentle-
man and a lady with a high chignon. 
    The lady held a long sharp umbrella in her hands. 
    The gentleman carried a small purse decorated by dark shiny 
furs, a little moist from the melted snowflakes.

(From "Sigmund in a Cafe" by Victor Pelevin)