About this story
Accused of theft, you walk twenty miles of snow to the bishop to lay down your living, and he sends you home in his own carriage. A lawyer traces the cheque backwards along its endorsements to a Barchester inn. Eighty-four chapters carry you from the summons to no true bill, St Ewold's, and your daughter's wedding.
How it opens
Rain found three separate leaks in the parsonage roof before reaching the kitchen pail.
Fletcher threatened printed notices unless his butcher's account was paid.
You copied a lesson in Greek while the unpaid bill waited beneath your elbow.
Jane CrawleyMother says there is bread enough if we leave the meat debt for later.
Choose
Dean Arabin sent it among the money he advanced in March.
It has been in my desk for months, though I cannot recall opening it.