"A mere formality," the Minister observed very carefully the signature being made, rubbed his moustache.
The steel-baron replaced the pen, taking precaution trained by habit to prevent the spillage of any ink. Realising this, and wanting to make obvious the fact these manners weren't anything but the betrayal of indifference, the large man blinked, "the Kritarchs will make sure you get yours."
The Minister moved the hand covering his mouth to the back of his neck, "Friend, you're a dead man. You'll be painted as a profiteer."
The aide appeared at the door to the businessman's left again.
The Minister's eyes returned lazily to the man sitting, "forgive my indulgence, you are no longer required."
"I have never been treated so unjustly."
"You are the most intriguing of the lot," the old man said, unmoved. "You have never done anything so important."
"You are insane."
At this, the Minister finally became annoyed, "no, property-owner, you are merely possessed by ignorance."