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Or maybe Bette's right:

Bette: "You really are the fucking scourge of the universe, aren't you?" [to Leigh] "Hello, Leigh, it's nice to see you."
Helena: "I'm sorry, are you talking to me?"
Bette: "I don't know, did you ever even care about Tina? Because if you did, you wouldn't have done what you did to me. Because it affects her too. Did you even stop to think about that?"
Helena: "You're under a misapprehension if you think I had anything to do with that."
Bette: "That's bullshit."
Leigh: "What are you two talking about?"

Peggy arrives to settle it all:

Peggy: "Hello. Why, Bette Porter."
Bette: [grinning] "Peggy Peabody."
Peggy: "Are you here by yourself tonight? Because I'm sort of feeling a bit of a gooseberry between these two horny lovebirds."
Bette: "Actually, I'm here with my partner, Tina."
Peggy. "Ah, Tina. Tina... [looks at Helena] didn't you just have a Tina? Or is that the new popular name for lesbians?"
Helena: "Actually, Mummy, it's, um, it's the same Tina."
Peggy: [looks at Helena] [looks at Bette] "Oh dear."

Snort again!

Peggy: "Did anyone happen to see the surrealist show at the Met a few years back?"
Leigh: "Desire unbound. It was brilliant. Brilliantly curated. The Man Rays were completely brilliant."
Peggy: "Fuck brilliant. I'm talking about how those people fucked."
Bette: "Those surrealists certainly fucked a lot, and it's very well documented."
Peggy: "Eluard the poet was with the beauteous Gala, and then Gala slipped off and seduced Max Ernst, who thought he was very much in love with Louise at the time. And then Gala ended up with Dali, and that left Eluard and Louise to share another woman, the very strange Denise Levy, who was being courted — and boinked, I believe — at the time by... by..."
Bette: "Breton."
Peggy: "Breton, yes, and boinked by Peret, and blabbity-blabbity-blah."

I love the way Bette's sort of squirming, as if she can't believe how sexy Peggy's brain is.

Peggy: "Well, at least they wrote fabulous, tortured, sick love poems to one another."
Helena: "Yes, Mummy, 'cause that... that absolutely redeemed them."
Peggy: "Well, you know, all that fucking... with no art... is really rather dreary. I hope you girls write fabulous, sick, neurotic, tortured love poems to one another."
Bette: "I'm actually working on several right now."
Peggy: "Send me one, won't you, Bette?"

Hahaha. Did you hear that, Helena? Your mummy just called you "fucking with no art." How dreary.

Carmen interrupts to tell Bette that Tina's still in the bathroom and needs Bette's help. Aw, but I was enjoying that Peggy/Bette brilliance. As Bette excuses herself, Peggy watches her go with a look that says "Why couldn't she have been my daughter?" Or something else.

It's time — In the bathroom, Tina reports that her water has broken. Or that her water just broke. Why doesn't anyone ever say that water "has broken"? And why do I feel like singing a Cat Stevens song?

Bette calls Davina, who I think is the birthing coach, and Tina grunts.

In the crowd — Carmen finds Kit and David, and tells Kit what's going on. Kit starts to get up and go, but David says they should wait, because it could be hours. Carmen, I still kinda like you, and I like that you're involved in this way. And Kit, I still kinda adore you, and I like that you're all flustered and beside yourself in that way. And David, you're kinda cute.

Sorry, I got all mushy for a minute there.

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