And from one end of the field to the other the discussion raging in Nana’s landau seemed to spread and increase.  Voices were raised in a scream; the passion for gambling filled the air, set faces glowing and arms waving excitedly, while the bookmakers, perched on their conveyances, shouted odds and jotted down amounts right furiously.  Yet these were only the small fry of the betting world; the big bets were made in the weighing enclosure.  Here, then, raged the keen contest of people with light purses who risked their five-franc pieces and displayed infinite covetousness for the sake of a possible gain of a few louis.  In a word, the battle would be between Spirit and Lusignan.  Englishmen, plainly recognizable as such, were strolling about among the various groups.  They were quite at home; their faces were fiery with excitement; they were afready triumphant.  Bramah, a horse belonging to Lord Reading, had gained the Grand Prix the previous year, and this had been a defeat over which hearts were still bleeding.  This year it would be terrible if France were beaten anew.  Accordingly all the ladies were wild with national pride.  The Vandeuvres stable became the rampart of their honor, and Lusignan was pushed and defended and applauded exceedingly.  Gaga, Blanche, Caroline and the rest betted on Lusignan.  Lucy Stewart abstained from this on account of her son, but it was bruited abroad that Rose Mignon had commissioned Labordette to risk two hundred louis for her.  The Tricon, as she sat alone next her driver, waited till the last moment.  Very cool, indeed, amid all these disputes, very far above the ever-increasing uproar in which horses’ names kept recurring and lively Parisian phrases mingled with guttural English exclamations, she sat listening and taking notes majestically.

“And Nana?” said Georges.  “Does no one want her?”

Indeed, nobody was asking for the filly; she was not even being mentioned.  The outsider of the Vandeuvres’s stud was swamped by Lusignan’s popularity.  But La Faloise flung his arms up, crying: 

“I’ve an inspiration.  I’ll bet a louis on Nana.”

“Bravo!  I bet a couple,” said Georges.

“And I three,” added Philippe.

And they mounted up and up, bidding against one another good-humoredly and naming prices as though they had been haggling over Nana at an auction.  La Faloise said he would cover her with gold.  Besides, everybody was to be made to back her; they would go and pick up backers.  But as the three young men were darting off to propagandize, Nana shouted after them: 

“You know I don’t want to have anything to do with her; I don’t for the world!  Georges, ten louis on Lusignan and five on Valerio II.”