Paul Montague had been a fool to suggest Lowestoft, but his folly had been natural.  It was not the first place he had named; but when fault had been found with others, he had fallen back upon the sea sands which were best known to himself.  Lowestoft was just the spot which Mrs Hurtle required.  When she had been shown her room, and taken down out of the hotel on to the strand, she had declared herself to be charmed.  She acknowledged with many smiles that of course she had had no right to expect that Mrs Pipkin should understand what sort of place she needed.  But Paul would understand,—­and had understood.  ’I think the hotel charming,’ she said.  ’I don’t know what you mean by your fun about the American hotels, but...