Be off; make an appointment.

Saturday's my holiday.

You know that.' Andrew pushed through the doorway, and, by way of an emphatic reply and a silencing one, delivered a punch slap into Old Tom's belt.
'Confound you, Nan!' said Old Tom, grimacing, but friendly, as if his sympathies had been irresistibly assailed.
'It 's done, Tom! I've done it.

Won my bet, now,' Andrew exclaimed.

'The women-poor creatures! What a state they're in.