"Hampstead Heath! Glory of London! Where Keats walked and Jarmen fucked, where Orwell exercised his weakened lungs and Constable never failed to find something holy."
"We have just received intelligence that another child, missed last night, was only discovered late in the morning under a furze bush at Shooters Hill side of Hampstead Heath, which is perhaps less frequented than the other parts. It has the same tiny wound in the throat as been noticed in other cases."