Her pink silk scarf fluttered gently in the light air. She enters...

She is moved, as she discovers this place which she had so often dreamed of...

She is reminded of history lessons about this house and its mysteries which little by little were beginning to unravel...

Here and there the signature of Turner’s shimmering light...

Silk, velvet, precious wood as in Agatha Christie’s novels.

At breakfast or tea time, the welcoming atmosphere gains her trust...

At sunset, beyond the roofs, the City of Light shines her last rays.

web: Paris Hotel Britannique
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