Excerpt from The Queen of Farrandale: A Novel
"I"ve never had any luck," said Hugh Sinclair, lifting a stein of beer and emptying it in one steady draught.
The fashionably dressed man, with graying hair on his temples who sat opposite him at the table, left his own foaming mug untouched as he watched the handsome, rough-looking boy of twenty-four with a half smile.
"Nor my father before me," added Hugh, as he set down the empty stein. "No silver spoons in the mouths of our family when they are born."
"Your father was a pretty fine man," remarked the other.
"Oh, yes, I suppose so," said the boy carelessly. "I remember, Mr. Ogden, that you and he were a sort of pals. I suppose it was on his account that you looked me up to-day.
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