Blanche: He's not going anywhere.
Rose: It's a girl?
Blanche: No girl. No boy. I'm not pregnant. It's worse. It's much worse.
Dorothy: Blanche, what is it?
Rose: My life is over. Oh, Blanche. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for thinking all those bad things about you when I thought you were pregnant. Like what a slut you were for having all those men. The things only a tramp would do. But now that you're dying, please forgive me, I didn't know.
Blanche: I am not dying, but I might as well be. It's menopause. Well, I wish I could die because as far as I'm concerned, this is the end of my life.