eight in the morning
But nothing had yet been levelled ; the soil , brought thither for making up the bank , lay as it had fallen from the carts , and on all sides were pits and mounds interspersed with the abandoned building materials . Wretched urchins came to play there , workmen without work slept in the sunshine , and women after washing ragged linen spread it out to dry upon the stones . Nevertheless the spot proved a happy , peaceful refuge for Pierre , one fruitful in inexhaustible reveries when for hours at a time he lingered gazing at the river , the quays , and the city , stretching in front of him and on either hand . At eight in the morning the sun already gilded the vast opening . On turning to the left he perceived the roofs of the Trastevere , of a misty , bluish grey against the dazzling sky . Then , just beyond the apse of San Giovanni , on the right , the river curved , and on its other bank the poplars of the Ospedale di Santo Spirito formed a green curtain , while the castle of Sant ' Angelo showed brightly in the distance . But Pierre 's eyes dwelt more particularly on the bank just in front of him , for there he found some lingering vestiges of old Rome .