“No one answered the doorbell, and the blinds were drawn. Christina had an ailing, octogenarian father in Boston, but even if an emergency had summoned her to see him, she was a stickler about appointments, and Kendall was convinced she’d have heard from Christina if her absence at the exhibit wasn’t connected to the unpleasantness with Brig. Kendall went around the corner to Commerce to check the courtyard. During the winter, Christina enjoyed sitting on the redwood settee while an apple-wood f...ire blazed in an ashcan. She wasn’t there, and the gate was padlocked. Kendall caught a subway uptown. On Saturday, she’d gone to the gallery, and Léo had urged her to take more double exposures in Harlem. He had spoken to the reviewers from the Times and Herald Tribune, and their enthusiastic opinions of her work would be on the newsstands Friday morning—fortuitous timing because Ada Robbins had been in touch and had invited them to lunch on the same day. So Kendall revived her summer routine, scouting Harlem for photographs and eating at Crossroad Bar-B-Q.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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