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Over in Europe, they say Chicago? University of Chicago? Oh, yes yes indeed, I remember now. That's where Hubers is." "The professor," as Dr. Parkman frequently insisted on calling him, showed himself capable of a rush of red blood to the face, and of a very human engulfing of emotion in a hurried cough. "Ah, I see you are a warm friend, Dr.
They all knew that Dr. Parkman worked hard. Some few knew that he overworked, and a very few knew why. Of the personal things of his own life he never spoke, and though he was but fifty, his lined face and deep-set eyes made him seem much closer to sixty. The two men were an interesting contrast; Dr. Parkman was singularly, conspicuously dark, while Karl Hubers was a true Teuton in colouring. Dr.
Generations before, his ancestors up there in North Europe had swept things before them with a mighty hand. With defeat and renunciation they did not reckon. If they loved a woman, they picked her up and took her away. And civilisation has not quite washed the blood of those men from the earth. Germany gave to Karl Hubers something more than a scholar's mind.
"What is the matter?" her voice was quick and sharp. The woman hesitated. "Tell me!" demanded Ernestine. "I will not be treated like that!" "Dr. Parkman wants you to come home," the woman said, not looking Ernestine in the face. "Why? Karl?" she caught roughly at the other woman's arm. She knew then that she could not temporise nor modify. "Dr. Hubers was taken sick yesterday.
Hubers' department, and use some human interest stuff about his old laboratory the more of that the better." She hated it! Were they never going to let Karl alone? Was it decent to put his own cousin on the story? Georgia's chin quivered as she wrote that part about Karl's laboratory.
They might travel with me on my rounds for a day or two. One day would finish a good deal of this factory-made optimism." "Does Dr. Hubers feel as you do?" Hastings asked, not quite concealing the anxiety in the question. "How in God's name could he feel any other way? though it's hard making him out," turning to Georgia, who nodded understandingly.
When the McCormicks gave up their flat at Christmas time, Beason had come to live with the Hubers. Ernestine prided herself upon some cleverness in having rented two rooms without Karl's suspecting it was a matter of renting the rooms. When he engaged Ross as his secretary in the fall she said it would be more convenient for them all for Mr. Ross to have his room there.
Karl Hubers was thirty-nine years old. He had worked in European laboratories, notably the Pasteur Institute of Paris, and among men of his kind was regarded as one to be reckoned with. Within the profession his name already stood for vital things, and it was associated now with one of the big problems, the solving of which it was believed this generation would have to its credit.
Other men had been lonesome now and then, and it had not quite killed them. Beason and Ross were in the house, and there was a good maid, who adored Dr. Hubers. "As to where he thinks you are, I'll tell him half the truth. That you are a little nervous and I have prescribed change and rest." But she would not agree to that. "Karl would worry," she said.
Yes, it was there all right, and a girl passing up the steps just then was amazed and much fluttered to think Dr. Hubers should be smiling so beautifully at her. In fact, Dr. Hubers did not know that the girl was passing. She had simply been in the direction of his smile; and he was smiling because it was Ernestine's birthday, and because he had so beautiful a present for her.
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