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They were curiously, though not unattractively,
unlike. The left he used for observations, the right for making the
accompanying drawings. That gave them a peculiarity only the man of
science would understand.
The things which the two men radiated were different things. One felt
their different adjustment toward life. Dr. Parkman had turned to hard
work as some men turn to strong drink, to submerge himself, to take him
out of himself, to make life possible; while with Karl Hubers, work and
life and love were all one great force. Dr. Parkman worked in order that
he might not remember; Karl in order that he might fulfill.
Their friendship had begun ten years before in Vienna, one of those rare
friendships which seem all the more intimate because formed in a
foreign land; a friendship taking root in the rich soil of kindred
interests,--comradeship which drew from the deep springs of
understanding. To come close to Karl's work had been one of the real joys
of Dr. Parkman's very active but very barren life.


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