She fairly quivered with impatience.
"A woman who can drive David Hautville's roan can drive this horse, and you know it," said she.

She moved forward as she spoke, leading the high-stepping old white, and Dexter Beers stood aside.
"Well, David Hautville's roan is nigh a match for this one," he grunted, hesitatingly, "but then ye know your own better.

Hadn't ye better--" But the old white was out of the stable at a trot, with Madelon running alongside.
"Don't ye want a man to hitch him up ?" Dexter Beers called after her; but she was out of hearing.
"If the gal's ekal to drivin' that horse, she's ekal to hitchin' of him up," said the man who was cleaning the bay.

"If a gal wants to drive, let her hitch.

Ye'd better let a woman go the whole figger when she gits started, just as ye'd better give an ugly cuss of a horse his head up hill an' down.