three o'clock
He had as yet only driven across the superb piazza with its obelisk and twin fountains , encircled by Bernini 's colonnades , those four rows of columns and pilasters which form a girdle of monumental majesty . At the far end rises the basilica , its facade making it look smaller and heavier than it really is , but its sovereign dome nevertheless filling the heavens . Pebbled , deserted inclines stretched out , and steps followed steps , worn and white , under the burning sun ; but at last Pierre reached the door and went in . It was three o'clock . Broad sheets of light streamed in through the high square windows , and some ceremony -- the vesper service , no doubt -- was beginning in the Capella Clementina on the left . Pierre , however , heard nothing ; he was simply struck by the immensity of the edifice , as with raised eyes he slowly walked along . At the entrance came the giant basins for holy water with their boy-angels as chubby as Cupids ; then the nave , vaulted and decorated with sunken coffers ; then the four cyclopean buttress-piers upholding the dome , and then again the transepts and apsis , each as large as one of our churches .