I've heard of parsons playing that game, and no harm to their conscience, because no lie told." "Sir!" Emilia rose and faced him.
"Oh, no offence, miss! I believe _you_; and for that matter the wench seemed fair-spoken enough, and gave me a drink of cider.
'Tis the matter of a debt, you see." He drew a scrap of dirty paper from his pocket.

"Twelve-seventeen-six, for repairs done to Wroote Parsonage; new larder, fifteen; lead for window-casements, eight-six; new fireplace to parlour, one-four-six: ancettera.
I'm a plumber by trade--plumber and glazier--and in business at Lincoln.

William Wright's my name, and Right by nature." Here he grinned.

"Your father would have everything of the best; Epworth tradesman not worth a damn, excuse me, and meaning no offence.
So he said, or words to that effect.

A very particular gentleman, and his nose at the time into everything.