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There is nothing quite like Eastern Market late on a wet night, when the streets are shellacked with mist and there is no one about. On a typical Saturday afternoon this place is abuzz with the buying and selling of handmade beads and incense and fresh strawberries. But on a night like this one half expects to see Sherlock Holmes, pipe in hand, looking pensive, materialize out the darkness.

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Night Market
October 2005