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"Je suis gueuse, il est vrai," she writes to Madame de Noailles on first going to Spain, "mais je suis encore plus fière." Detailing to Madame de Maintenon somewhat later the indignities they both had to put up with from accusations of a like nature, she speaks of them in a tone of lofty irony and sovereign contempt which appears to exclude anything like falsehood.
The Princess des Ursins being, moreover, too knowing to exact anything in the shape of money from the King in addition to the high favour and all-powerful protection she had just received at his hands; she showed herself, to use her own words, aussi fière que gueuse.
"Perhaps your husband will be so amiable as to shampoo my cat!" she shouted. "She seems to like your 'Salon'!" But Espérance, while for concord's sake inclined to tolerate all rudeness to herself, was not prepared to hear Hippolyte insulted, and so, wheeling at the doorway, flung all her resentment into two words. "Mal élevée!" "Gueuse!" screamed Alexandrine from the desk. And so they parted.
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