Sven digital books

His hands made one
believe in him.
With Karl it was the eyes told most. They seemed to be looking such a
long way ahead, and yet not missing the smallest thing close at hand. As
he talked now, his face lighted with enthusiasm, it occurred to Dr.
Parkman that Hubers was a curious blending of the two kinds of men there
were behind him. Some of those men had been fighters and some had been
thinkers, but Karl was the thinker who fights. He had drawn from both of
them, and that gave him peculiar fitness for the work he was doing. It
was work for the thinker, the scholar, but work which must have the
fighting blood. Even his appearance bore the mark of the two kinds of
things bequeathed him. He had the well-knit body of the soldier, the face
of the student. He was not a large man, but he gave the sense of large
things. He had the slight stoop of the laboratory, but when interested,
aflame, he straightened up and was then in every line the man who fights.
His eyes, to the understanding observer, told the story of much work
with the microscope.


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