And I couldn't sleep very much, and I--I simply couldn't tell you how unhappy they were making me--and I--sometimes--now and then--in fact, very often, I--formed the custom of--doing what I ought not to have done--to steady my nerves--in fact, I simply let myself go--badly." "Oh, my darling! My darling! Couldn't you have told me--let me sit with you, talk, read to you--_love_ you to sleep?
Why did you do this, Geraldine ?" "Nothing--very disgraceful--ever happened.

It only helped me to sleep when I was excited and miserable....

I--I didn't care what I did--Duane and Rosalie made me so wretched.

And there seemed no use in my trying to be different from others, and I thought I might as well be as rotten as everybody.

But I tried and couldn't--I tried, for instance, to misbehave with Jack Dysart, but I couldn't--and I only hated myself and him and Rosalie and Duane!" She sat up, flushed, dishevelled, lips quivering.