M. de Guersaint immediately consented; and all five of them set out
again, Madame Desagneaux still between the architect and the priest,
whilst Raymonde and Gerard brought up the rear. The crowd in the burning
sunlight was increasing; the Place du Rosaire was now overflowing with an
idle sauntering mob resembling some concourse of sight-seers on a day of
public rejoicing.

The bottling and packing shops were situated under one of the arches on
the left-hand side of the Place. They formed a suite of three apartments
of very simple aspect. In the first one the bottles were filled in the
most ordinary of fashions. A little green-painted zinc barrel, not unlike
a watering-cask, was dragged by a man from the Grotto, and the
light-coloured bottles were then simply filled at its tap, one by one;
the blouse-clad workman entrusted with the duty exercising no particular
watchfulness to prevent the water from overflowing. In fact there was
quite a puddle of it upon the ground. There were no labels on the
bottles; the little leaden capsules placed over the corks alone bore an
inscription, and they were coated with a kind of ceruse, doubtless to
ensure preservation. Then came two other rooms which formed regular
packing shops, with carpenters' benches, tools, and heaps of shavings.
The boxes, most frequently made for one bottle or for two, were put
together with great care, and the bottles were deposited inside them, on
beds of fine wood parings. The scene reminded one in some degree of the
packing halls for flowers at Nice and for preserved fruits at Grasse.

Gerard went on giving explanations with a quiet, satisfied air. "The
water," he said, "really comes from the Grotto, as you can yourselves
see, so that all the foolish jokes which one hears really have no basis.
And everything is perfectly simple, natural, and goes on in the broad