Don and Roger are drinking together, and I'm quite sure booze manufacturers everywhere are rejoicing that these two have mended their fences. Don says he can't believe Pete was going to leave, and Roger adds, "Little shit." HEE. I mean, I don't doubt that Don meant a lot of the stuff he said, but I love that he's bitching about having had to say it. Roger points out that the bar still has a picture of Kennedy up, which: What's it been, a few weeks? Although I'll admit that Jane talking about Kennedy all the time could certainly make it seem like longer. After Roger muses that he's acted like he started his business his whole life, even though he inherited it, Don confesses that he needs an attorney. "Divorce." Roger's like, right, Henry Francis, and when Don asks who that is, looks very chagrined that he just followed up a reconciliation with Don by putting a bag of trash directly into his outstretched hand, but he soldiers on, saying that Margaret's friends with his daughter. Don asks if he and Betty are sleeping together, but Roger helplessly says he doesn't know, but it sounds like it might be serious. He goes on to say that he thought Don knew, and it is kind of amazing that he didn't, given both Francis's and Betty's legendarily bad skills at having an affair, and then sighs defeatedly: "I'm sorry I told you. Believe me." Don looks floored, chastened, and hurt kind of beyond measure, and Roger apologizes again. On the plus side, I'm guessing these two are made up for good now.
Betty's asleep in bed when Don enters and unceremoniously tells her to wake up: "Who the hell is Henry Francis?" Someone who's glad he didn't choose this evening to sleep over, I'd say. After a moment, Betty tells him no one, which: See above, especially since they've actually talked about him before. He drags her out of bed and repeats the question, and when she attempts to buy time by asking why he cares, he contemptuously (and drunkenly) seethes, "Because you're good, and everyone else in the world is bad. You're so hurt, so brave with your little white nose in the air. All along you've been building a life raft." Just as well divorce is on the table, because as of this conversation I think we're beyond couples counseling. Betty snaps at him to get out, but he's not done, saying that she never forgave him, and since they are officially Going There, she spits, "Forgave what? That I've never been enough?" He ignores the calling out of his unflagging infidelity, shouting that she got everything she ever wanted, "and now I'm not good enough for some spoiled mainline brat?"