“Don’t want to turn into some Filipino Ahab, obsessed with spearing Malacañang Palace,” he said, and the old girl wondered if he’d really read all of Moby-Dick in jail. “It’s not the only way to help people, is it?” “Of course not,” said the old girl, trying not to sound too excited. You loved being a reporter. You loved running my father’s hacienda. Maybe you’ll publish this book, and travel the world to talk about it.
