They lunched in front of St.
Peter's, in a little restaurant of the Borgo, most of whose customers were pilgrims, and the fare, as it happened, was far from good.

Then at about two o'clock they set off for the museum, skirting the basilica by way of the Piazza della Sagrestia.

It was a bright, deserted, burning district; and again, but in a far greater degree, did the young priest experience that sensation of bare, tawny, sun-baked majesty which had come upon him while gazing into the Court of San Damaso.

Then, as he passed the apse of St.Peter's, the enormity of the colossus was brought home to him more strongly than ever: it rose like a giant bouquet of architecture edged by empty expanses of pavement sprinkled with fine weeds.

And in all the silent immensity there were only two children playing in the shadow of a wall.