"Just off the cavernous concourse familiar from so many movies stands an unremarkable bank of lifts. Ascend to the fourth floor, navigate a nondescript corridor and call for new balls, please, on the full-sized indoor court, whose arched windows look onto Manhattan's 42nd Street. That's after you've forked out the US$365 an hour (peak period) fee charged by the Vanderbilt Tennis Club."
"In the 1970s and 80s, many of its regulars weren't there for either transport or nutrition - prostitutes and vagrants stalked the formerly hallowed halls of a Beaux-Arts landmark whose grubby decline reflected that of New York itself."
"And yet, this fixture on the National Register of Historic Places isn't a station at all, and is properly called Grand Central Terminal, because train services terminate (and begin) here, rather than roll through."
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