There is no other way out.

In despair I have put this off until the last moment.
But I have thought of nothing else for a week.

Good God, Constance, I have reached the mental state where even intoxicants fail to intoxicate." He dropped back again into the deep chair and sank his head again on his hands.

He groaned as he thought of the agony of packing a bag and slinking for the Western express through the crowds at the railroad terminal.
Still Constance was silent.

Through her mind was running the single thought that she had misjudged him.