The Harlem Sanctuary
The Harlem Sanctuary The alley behind 145th Street smelled of wet cardboard and boiled cabbage, the particular combination of odours that defined Harlem in the winter of 1925. Eleanor Duval walked it quickly, her wool coat pulled tight against a wind that carried the bite of coming snow. She was twenty-nine, mixed-race on her mother's side — French-Caribbean, from Martinique — and Black on...
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