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... ssion.
Filippov reminded him from the side, “You now look like a villain in a movie about the civil war, like Peterlyula or something.”
Vasily restrained his smile and looked at his old friend, “Really?”
“Very much so. This child probably wasn’t afraid of the Marshal, it was your smile he was afraid of. This poor kid is likely to have nightmares of your smile for nights to come.”
“That’s good,” Vasily touched his cheek, “what I want is for all of them to have nigh ...
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