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.