Miss Cameron,” he said. “You can call upon the Chinatown police squad anytime.”
“Thank you, sir,” Dolly said.
He lit another cigarette, but stamped it out when it was only half smoked. As they neared the docks, Dolly asked how long ago Hong Leen had lived at the mission home.
“Oh, many years ago,” Anna answered. “She was rescued by my aunt, and eventually she married Woo Hip. They returned to China together to build a new life.”
“Where is her husband now?”
“I don’t know,” Anna said. She slowed her step as they passed by a long, warehouse-type building sitting on piles over the bay. “I hope she’s not in there.”
Dolly studied the low building. “What is that place?”
“The detention shed,” Officer Cook said. “They keep the foreigners inside while they wait for their hearings. No latrine facilities, and they’re fed only the very minimum. Most of them are deported. A rough place.”
Dolly wanted to pry open the door and let out the poor people locked inside.
Passing the detention shed, they reached the pier, where they paused in front of the immigration office. “I’ll wait for you ladies out here,” Cook said, “in case you need an escort back to the mission home.”
Dolly thanked him, and she and Anna walked into the office, where they were greeted by an immigration officer. He led them to the back room, where a Chinese woman waited with two young children. Hong Leen’s face brightened at the sight of them, but the pallor of her complexion told Dolly she wasn’t well.
Anna hurried to Hong Leen’s bench and embraced the woman. While Hong Leen communicated with Anna in a combination of English and Chinese, Dolly soon discovered that the woman had been ill the entire voyage over. She had also lost her husband to plague a couple of years ago.
Dolly focused on the two young children, a four- or five-year-old girl and her younger brother, who couldn’t have been more than two. They watched Dolly with open curiosity as the other women talked.
Dolly smiled, and when they smiled in return, she crouched before them and asked them their names in what little Chinese she had picked up. The girl broke into a giggle at a white woman’s jarring attempt to speak Chinese.
They exchanged names, and Dolly learned the boy was Kang and the girl, Jiao.
“Would you like to come to the mission home?” Dolly asked in English.
“Yes, we will come with you,” the little girl answered, speaking English herself, to Dolly’s surprise. “Our father died,” Jiao said matter-of-factly.
Kang leaned his head against his sister’s shoulder and popped his thumb into his mouth.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Dolly told the children.
The conversation between Anna and Hong Leen continued, with the Chinese woman explaining how her husband had come down with the plague when they had arrived in Hong Kong, and by the time they had reached his family’s home, he had gone mad with the disease. Her husband’s passing had left an irreversible void, especially since Hong Leen’s in-laws had blamed her for their son’s death.
Hong Leen had continued to live with her in-laws, but they had found small ways to persecute and disparage her.
When Hong Leen finished her story, Anna asked Dolly to go speak to the immigration officer and vouch for the little family. Dolly straightened and left the back room, sensing she would repeat these types of requests to immigration officers many more times.
Taking a deep breath, she offered a small smile to the officer. The worn lines about his eyes told her that he’d already had a long day, and the morning was still young.
“We are willing to care for Hong Leen in her illness and take on her children as well,” Dolly said.
The officer nodded. “You’ll need to sign paperwork that you have her in custody until we decide on her legal rights to remain here.”
“Of course.” Dolly’s heart thumped as he produced a form for her to sign. Hong Leen and her children were able to come to the mission home. Every part of Dolly flooded with relief.
After signing, she hurried back to the room and shared the news.
The children hugged Dolly, and her heart brimmed as she squeezed them back. These children were so innocent, so trusting. Now, she could only hope that their mother would recover her health soon.
Officer Cook was waiting for the small group as they left the immigration office. True to his word, he escorted them all the way back to the mission home—except he hired a carriage for