But at this dim hour Rome was no longer the city of youth and dreamland soaring into the early sunshine.

The night was raining down, grey and ashen; the horizon was becoming blurred, vague, and mournful.

Yonder, to the left, beyond the sea of roofs, Pierre could still divine the presence of the Palatine; and yonder, to the right, there still arose the Dome of St.Peter's, now grey like slate against the leaden sky; whilst behind him the Quirinal, which he could not see, must also be fading away into the misty night.

A few minutes went by, and everything became yet more blurred; he realised that Rome was fading, departing in its immensity of which he knew nothing.

Then his causeless doubt and disquietude again came on him so painfully that he could no longer remain at the window.