Sometimes they followed the beaten path down the cliff or, as it chanced to be, across the marshes; sometimes they slid down the face of the cliff; sometimes they lost themselves behind the hedges and in the lanes of the villages.

But when they again reached the car the procedure of each was alike--each produced a pencil and on the face of his "Half Inch" road map traced strange, fantastic signs.
At lunch-time they stopped at the East Cliff Hotel at Cromer and made numerous and trivial inquiries about the Cromer golf links.

They had come, they volunteered, from Ely for a day of sea-bathing and golf; they were returning after dinner.

The head-waiter of the East Cliff Hotel gave them the information they desired.

He was an intelligent head-waiter, young, and of pleasant, not to say distinguished, bearing.
In a frock coat he might easily have been mistaken for something even more important than a head-waiter--for a German riding-master, a leader of a Hungarian band, a manager of a Ritz hotel.