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He himself was a handsome man, his face a bit fleshy from too much rich food, his eyes a bit baggy and bloodshot from the wine he drank with each meal, but otherwise he looked almost dashing with a touch of gray at his temples and a splendid mustache that curled up toward his slightly rouged cheeks.
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'Er . . . promise that you are his sureties, that he will renounce the devil and all his works, and constantly believe . . .' Yulian had also had enough.
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