Chapter 51
"Yes, she's only ninety years old," he said with an arch of eyebrows.
I let out a whistle.
"I don't care. The truth is that I hate running, or playing sports, or sweating beyond sex. If the fate of humanity depends on Penelope Maxwell performing exercises, it is good that you start saying goodbye to your family, because we will all die!”
"Stop complaining," he said, although he was still smiling. "Can you imagine how many people would give anything to have the privilege of running and jumping as you can? Even with your limitations, you still have more opportunities than many people younger than you, Lope. Value your life.”
"Oh, that's it. Now you will want to start making me feel bad by thinking that everyone
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