Tell me, dear." "We're to go back--back to--back to Ireland.

See--here are the orders," and he showed her the official letter.
She took it wonderingly and read it.

Her hand dropped to her side.

Her head drooped into the same position he had found her in.

In a moment he was kneeling at her side: "What is it, dear ?" "We can't go, Frank." "We can't go?
What are ye sayin', dear ?" "We can't go," she repeated, her body crumpled up limply in the chair.
"And why not, Angela?
I know I can't take ye back as I brought ye here, dear, if that's what ye mane.