The low ceiling made him seem abnormally tall. His brute strength surged through her veins, she could feel his energy in her heart, his life force stolen like candy from a baby. Rain started to pummel the roof of the pavilion, which coalesced into sheets and rumbled to the cement below. The lighting-up pierced the obscurity of the box, and Ramage stopped his urgent flow of words abruptly and sat back. Later, at the bottom of that envelope I found a letter.
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