Joan: Well in the desert that was my childhood, I was grateful for any kind of genuine affection to feel cherished. Bette: Who was the lucky cub scout? Joan: My mother's second husband, Henry Cassen. He was a lovely man. Meant the world to me. Well, we called him Daddy Cassen, but he wasn't really my daddy. We weren't blood relations, so it wasn't incest, but he was kind and gentle, and he loved me. I led him into it. Bette: You were just a child. Your mother should have kicked him out!
Joan: My mother threw me out like a pair of old shoes. Shipped me off to convent school when I was 12. Bette: Maybe she was trying to protect your virtue. Joan: Oh no, no, no. No. That ship had long sailed. She knew that. Bette: You lost your cherry when you were 12? Joan: Eleven. Bette: Christ. I didn't even get a tingle until I was 25, and then I waited another two years until I did the deed, and that was on my Goddamned honeymoon.