I've certainly treated you with a rather rough-and-ready kind of courtesy.
You must try to pardon me.

A hermit gets little practice at entertaining angels unawares." Sara, recovering her composure, regarded him placidly.
"You might find many opportunities for practice in Monkshaven," she suggested.
"In Monkshaven?
Are you trying to suggest that I should ingratiate myself with the leading lights of local society ?" She nodded.
"Why not ?" He laughed as though genuinely amused.
"Perhaps you've not been here long enough yet to discover that the amiable inhabitants of Monkshaven look upon me as a sort of cross between a madman and a criminal who has eluded justice." "Whose fault is that ?" "Oh, mine, I suppose"-- quickly.

"But it doesn't matter--since I regard them as a set of harmless, conventional fools.

No, thank you, I've no intention of making friends with the people of Monkshaven." "They're not all conventional.

Some of them are rather interesting--Mrs.
Maynard, for instance, and the Herricks." He gave her a keen glance.
"Do you know the Herricks ?" "Yes.