at classic night of madness had brought together all that
was young and pleasure loving, and now this smart world was wallowing in
the coarseness and imbecility of the servants' hall. There was a fierce
crush under the festoons of gas lamps, and men in evening coats and
women in outrageous low-necked old toilets, which they did not mind
soiling, were howling and surging to and fro under the maddening
influence of a vast drunken fit. At a distance of thirty paces the brass
instruments of the orchestra were inaudible. Nobody was dancing. Stupid
witticisms, repeated no one knew why, were going the round of the
various groups. People were straining after wit without succeeding in
being funny. Seven women, imprisoned in the cloakroom, were crying to be
set free. A shallot had been found, put up to auction and knocked down
at two louis. Just then Nana arrived, still wearing her blue-and-white
racecourse costume, and amid a thunder of applause the shallot was
presented to her. People caught hold of her in her own despite, and
three gentlemen bore her triumphantly into the garden, across ruined
grassplots and ravaged masses of greenery. As the bandstand presented
an obstacle to her advance, it was taken by storm, and chairs and music
stands were smashed. A paternal police organized the disorder.

It was only on Tuesday that Nana recovered from the excitements of
victory. That morning she was chatting with Mme Lerat, the old lady
having come in to bring her news of Louiset, whom the open air had
upset. A long story, which was occupying the attention of all Paris,
interested her beyond measure. Vandeuvres, after being warned off all
racecourses and posted at the Cercle Imperial on the very evening after
the disaster, had set fire to his stable on the morrow and had burned
himself and his horses to death.

"He certainly told me he was going to," the young woman kept saying.
"That man was a regular maniac! Oh, how they did frighten me when
they told me about it yesterday evening! You see, he might easily have
murdered me some fine night. And besides, oughtn't he to have given me a
hint about his horse? I should at any rate have made my fortune! He said
to Labordette that if I knew about the matter I would immediately inform
my hairdresser and a whole lot of other men. How polite, eh? Oh dear,
no, I certainly can't grieve much for him."

After some reflection she had grown very angry. Just then Labordette
came in; he had seen abou