A New York tenement yard, 1900.
And for some Manhattan flavour of a different kind, I am reading The House of Mirth by Edith Wharton. It's the orginal Gossip Girl and is scathingly brilliant.
"Ruling the turbulent element called home was the vigorous and determined figure of a mother still young enough to dance her balldresses to rags, while the hazy outline of a neutral-tinted father filled an intermediate space between the butler and the man who came to wind the clocks."
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