Explore "The Vultures" by Henry Seton Merriman on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"His face reminds one of a sunny graveyard," a witty Frenchwoman had once said of a man named Paul Deulin. And it is probable that Deulin alone could have understood what she meant. Those who think in French have a trick of putting great thoughts into a little compass, and, as the hollow ball of talk is tossing to and fro, it sometimes rings for a moment in a deeper note than many ears are tuned to catch.
The careless word seized the attention of one man who happened to hear it -- Reginald Cartoner, a listener, not a talker -- and made that man Paul Deulin's friend for the rest of his life. As there is point de culte sans mystère, so also there can be no lasting friendship without reserve. And although these two men had met in many parts of the world -- although they had in common more languages than may be counted on the fingers -- they knew but little of each other.