four o’clock
Pierre had been there for nearly two hours , when he at last took leave , greatly struck and affected by all that he had seen and heard . And again he had to promise that he would return and have a long chat with Orlando . Once out of doors he walked along at random . It was barely four o'clock , and it was his idea to ramble in this wise , without any predetermined programme , through Rome at that delightful hour when the sun sinks in the refreshed and far blue atmosphere . Almost immediately , however , he found himself in the Via Nazionale , along which he had driven on arriving the previous day . And he recognised the huge livid Banca d'Italia , the green gardens climbing to the Quirinal , and the heaven-soaring pines of the Villa Aldobrandini . Then , at the turn of the street , as he stopped short in order that he might again contemplate the column of Trajan which now rose up darkly from its low piazza , already full of twilight , he was surprised to see a victoria suddenly pull up , and a young man courteously beckon to him .