“Yes,” the Chinese said gravely.
“Well, Mr. Sên, a man knows his own country better—certainly more naturally—than any foreigner can. But you and I know that the old myth that no European can know anything very vital about China, or the Chinese, or understand either at all, is untrue.”
Sên King-lo nodded and smiled across the cigarette he was lighting. “Tommy-rot,” he said.
“Parkes knew China—quite a good deal about you—and Hart did, and Macartney.”
Sên King-lo nodded again.
“And there have been others.”
“And there have been others,” Sên King-lo said. “And there are now—a few. We need more.”
“I hope you’ll get them,” the host said cordially. “But if you don’t, I expect you’ll make shift without them.”
“I hope so,” Sên replied. “But it will take longer to accomplish what we must.”
“Much longer,” Snow added. “Next to my own country and people, I like and admire and trust yours, Mr. Sên.”