CHAPTER XLII
The Dust of China from Their Feet
The Gregorys sailed from Hong Kong the next week,
and half the Colony saw them off. One means, of
course, half the Europeans: the Chinese don't count—in
China. But John Bradley did not see them off—nor
had he come to wish them good-by. Hilda was offended,
and Basil was grateful. (He could be grateful at times.)
Except Florence, none of them had seen the priest since
the night Basil had consulted him. Mrs. Gregory called
upon him two days after her escape. She had sent a
note asking him to come to her at the hotel. He had
replied asking if she could, and kindly would, come to
him instead; he knew she'd been out continuously the
day before. And she had gone at once.
Of Kowloon she had told him nothing: when she had enjoined silence on Basil, she had meant silence; and she had no thought of breaking it towards any one.
She had wished to see him before they left Hong Kong, she said, and they were going home at once now.
Mrs. Gregory had a very sincere affection for John Bradley. If she had been in Hilda's shoes, she'd not have given him for a wilderness of Tom Carrutherses, she thought. And in leaving Hong Kong she was leaving behind her nothing that she regretted more than her talks with Bradley; except Ah Wong. That was her great regret, for she was leaving Ah Wong.
The amah had refused to quit her country. Mrs.
