In an old house in Paris all covered with flames "Dad... Dad... Is that a fire alarm?" "No. It's just some device." A faint peeping had worked its way into my sleep. It sounded like a cry for attention from one of my lesser gadgets, probably my watch, which told me that it was 2 AM, but wasn't peeping. My daughter, Laura, and I were on a journey to connect with distant relatives in Yorkshire, England. We decided to add a little glamor to the trip by first spending a few days in Paris. I booked us into the Grand Hotel Dechampaigne on the Right Bank a few steps from Pont Neuf. From its name, I imagined Dechampaigne would have an elegant entrance with Art Nouveau doors, a high-ceilinged lobby with a massive chandelier, and bellhops
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