I owe you no explanation; yours has been the wrong.

You, if you have studied my writing with intelligence, owe me a large debt of gratitude.

And to conclude, as I have not yet finished my toilet, I imagine the courtesy of a turnkey to a prisoner would induce you to withdraw.' There was some paper on the table, and Otto, sitting down, wrote a passport in the name of Sir John Crabtree.
'Affix the seal, Herr Cancellarius,' he said, in his most princely manner, as he rose.
Greisengesang produced a red portfolio, and affixed the seal in the unpoetic guise of an adhesive stamp; nor did his perturbed and clumsy movements at all lessen the comedy of the performance.

Sir John looked on with a malign enjoyment; and Otto chafed, regretting, when too late, the unnecessary royalty of his command and gesture.

But at length the Chancellor had finished his piece of prestidigitation, and, without waiting for an order, had countersigned the passport.