“He is not a servant,” she tried to say, but her words were drowned in the abuse which Clarence poured out on Edward.
“Go back to your boat and remember your place hereafter. Don’t interrupt when I’m speaking to you, sir—in England servants are trained not to answer back.”
Even in the half darkness Billie could see the flush on Edward’s face growing deeper every instant. He seemed to breathe in sharp little gasps and his body trembled as if he had an ague.
“Run,” she said to Clarence, who after one swift glance at Edward had actually turned on his heel and started up the path. But the warning came too late. In an instant Edward had seized him by the collar and was shaking him as a terrier shakes a rat. Then, without a moment’s hesitation, he tossed him into the lake.
“You low, contemptible coward,” he said. “Stay there until you apologize.”
Clarence floundered about in the water snorting and coughing, and started to wade ashore.
“I’m in earnest,” said Edward. “Apologize, or you’ll get pitched in again if you try to come out.”
All this time Billie had been standing silently on the bank. She could hardly blame Edward for punishing the cowardly boy who had insulted him, but she wished with all her heart that she had not been the cause of the quarrel.
“It’s just what I get for mixing into other people’s affairs,” she thought. “It all came about because I put it into the two Edwards’ heads to change places. I do wish I hadn’t said so much that night.”
The other Edward strolled out of the boat-house just then with his hands in his pockets. He was dressed in the white duck trousers and blue serge coat his counterpart had just removed.