“I don’t want to fight you,” Benedict said, crossing his arms, “but I will. And I can assure you that the three-to-one odds don’t frighten me.” “Now, see here,” Cavender said angrily. “You can’t come here and order me about on my own property.” “It’s your parents’ property,” Benedict pointed out, reminding them all that Cavender was still rather wet behind the ears. “It’s my home,” Cavender shot back, “and she’s my maid. And she’ll do what I want.” “I wasn’t aware that slavery was legal in this country,” Benedict murmured. “She has to do what I say!” “Does she?” “I’ll fire her if she doesn’t.”
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