He was a powerful man, standing nearly six feet in height, and not yet
showing any tendency towards stoutness, so common among Germans.
"Hello, Karl," cried Bob cheerily.
Hoffmann stopped short. His face had been drawn into a scowl as he strode
along, and he had been deeply engrossed in his own thoughts. Bob had
often seen him that way after talking with Lena, however. She was
something of a flirt and received lightly her admirers' advances. Many a
time both Heinrich and Karl had been driven almost to desperation by the
manner in which she treated them. Neither did they like each other,
because they were rivals.
"Hello there, Bob," he exclaimed, his face brightening. Bob had always
been a marked favorite of his, and many a thing he had showed him about
the machinery at the factory.
"You look mad," said Bob.
"I was sort of mad," said Karl. "I was worried."
"Anything I can do for you?" Bob inquired, nudging Hugh with his elbow.
He loved to tease both Karl and Heinrich about their love affair.
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