act correctly enough, and yet leave a feeling of resentment behind.
Take this very case. Britain says coldly to Russia:

"'We disclaim the act, and apologize.'

"Now, it would be much more to the purpose if she said genially:

"'We have in our employment an impetuous young fool with a thirst for
information. He wished to learn how a new piece of ordnance would act,
so fired it off with no more intention of striking Russia than of
hitting the moon. He knows much more about dancing than about foreign
affairs. We've given him a month's leave, and he will slip across
privately to St. Petersburg to apologize and explain. The moment you
see him you will recognize he is no menace to the peace of nations.
Meanwhile, if you can inculcate in him some cold, calm common-sense
before he returns, we'll be ever so much obliged.'"

"So you are determined to do what you think the government should have
done."

"Oh, quite. There will be nothing frigidly official about my
unauthorized mission. I have a cousin in the embassy at St.
Petersburg, but I shan't go near him; neither shall I go to an hotel,
but will get quiet rooms somewhere that I may not run the risk of
meeting any chance acquaintances."

"It seems to me you are about to afford the Russian Government an
excellent opportunity of spiriting you off to Siberia, and nobody
would be the wiser."