In time of real trouble and difficulty they would have been drawn together; as it was, there was little communion; the one went his way, and the other his.

There was perhaps rather an inclination to detract from each other's achievements that to praise them, a species of jealousy or envy without personal dislike, if that can be understood.
They were good friends, and yet kept apart.
Oliver made friends of all, and thwacked and banged his enemies into respectful silence.

Felix made friends of none, and was equally despised by nominal friends and actual enemies.

Oliver was open and jovial; Felix reserved and contemptuous, or sarcastic in manner.

His slender frame, too tall for his width, was against him; he could neither lift the weights nor undergo the muscular strain readily borne by Oliver.