You just give it to her straight and chuck her, and have done with it.
You must be bad off to bother about her. Gorstruth! she ain't much
to look at anyway! I've got to ride like blazes to catch the coach.
Don't knock off till I come back; I won't be above an hour.
I'm goin' to give you some points in case you've got to fight Mick;
and I'll have to be there to back you!" And, thus taking
the right moment instinctively, he jumped on his horse and galloped on
towards the town.

His dust-cloud had scarcely disappeared round a corner of the paddocks
when Andy was aware of another one coming towards him. He had a dazed idea
that it was Dave coming back, but went on digging another post-hole,
mechanically, until a spring-cart rattled up, and stopped opposite him.
Then he lifted his head. It was Lizzie herself, driving home from town.
She turned towards him with her usual faint smile. Her small features
were "washed out" and rather haggard.

"'Ello, Andy!"

But, at the sight of her, all his hatred of "funny business"
-- intensified, perhaps, by a sense of personal injury -- came to a head,
and he exploded:

"Look here, Lizzie Porter! I know all about you. You needn't think
you're goin' to cotton on with me any more after this!
I wouldn't be seen in a paddock with yer! I'm satisfied about you!
Get on out of this!"

The girl stared at him for a moment thunderstruck; then she
lammed into the old horse with a stick she carried in place of a whip.