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November begins with quiet light. Steam on the windows, a book by the bed, and Paris wrapped in...
35
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Morning light through mist. Our courtyard feels like a painting, quiet, steady, a pause between two...
27
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The Seine under mist, Notre-Dame behind it. November’s beauty is quiet, almost private. Madeleine...
36
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At sunset, Paris turns amber. At the Madeleine, we turn the lamps low. Madeleine de Senlis, hotel...
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A cup of tea, a madeleine, a page half-read. Autumn asks for nothing more. Madeleine de Senlis,...