![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLcDCQwRskXbU55oPcBI_UtmBGMlL1KUAZfpRusHjjlN_pD4iMg318J3EFu4T_uy1PWQIO2b2j2kOiAOAk5pg_npJNESARvmM7nVR6rRjUKhA7-Orb_Iyu7khXEnwB9lwT4gU/s400/Hampstead.jpg)
Sunday morning found me walking across Hampstead Heath as 11 o'clock approached. I sat on a log for the two minutes' silence, which was nearly perfect in the silvan sunshine but for the distant wail of a police siren. Long gone are the days when the traffic stopped and even the trains paused on their journeys.
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