Love Island's Georgia was heartbroken but stoic, a Scarlett O'Hara for the Instagram generation

In that moment, Georgia saw her heart before her and she told it not to break

Deep in the black centre of Georgia’s eyes, the flames of the firepit wobbled. Her eyebrows were pristine, plucked to art; two crescent moons, arcing toward some celestial realm, the wafted downy brush strokes of a flamboyant god.

Then Josh came through the villa door, and he was not alone.

The air left the night. Backdraft.

Georgia’s head dipped, just for an instant, then rose again. Her tarantula eyelashes flickered, the last defiant writhe of the undead. She exhaled. And it was in this moment she saw her heart before her and she told it not to break.

And for a second, there, above the glamour models and the personal trainers, above the phony challenges and the silly dates, above the grafting and the cracking on, there Georgia stood, the Scarlett O’Hara for the Instagram generation.

If I have to lie, steal, cheat or kill. As God is my witness, I’ll never be pied off again.

Well. That’s not quite what she said. Actually, it was, “He’s f*cked it man. He’s f*cked it. How f*cking dare you? How f*cking dare you do that to me?”

But anyway. These are the moments to savour, in this distended hell-dream summer of love. When it feels like you’ve been watching Alex crash and burn with hopelessly unsuitable women since sometime before the start of the Hundred Years War, these are the moments when that vast debt is repaid.

Both Georgia and Josh alike had been delivered to this febrile place by impossible emotional conundrums. Georgia had been given six new men to choose from but ultimately decided none of them were fitter than Josh.

Josh, on the other hand, had had Kasimir put in front of him. Torturous deliberations were gone through. But ultimately he decided that, though Georgia is definitely fit, Kasimir is fitter, and so he had no choice but to follow his heart and move on.

And on Love Island, this captivating shadow play of the primary school dating game, that is what counts for high drama.

Beneath this stirring climax, Prokofiev-style strings played (actually, Shazam has since told me it was the theme music from The Dark Knight Rises, still well within its copyright, so not all the budget is going on emergency Factor 50 for Alex).

It came as a welcome respite from the background mood music of the last 24 hours, which had been the incessant, unceasing whining of Dani Dyer. Imagine being trapped all day on a scorching underground train somewhere between Loughton and Chigwell with a woman having a blazing telephone row with some feckless customer services department somewhere and you’ll have some idea of the sheer misery inflicted first on the rest of the villa and then on the ITV2 audience.

For not only had her pen salesman boyfriend Jack been whisked to a new villa with six new women for company, Dani had also been informed, via an Instagram Story-style video of his stunned reaction, that one of them was his ex-girlfriend.

It was, quite frankly, more than Dani could take. In similar situations, this is the point at which either the welfare officer or the lawyer steps in and tells Derren Brown he’s gone far enough. This is the point at which a saucer of milk is brought in and the electrodes are removed from the lab rat’s brain.

But it did, not unlike The Dark Knight Rises, in fact, give us a window into the darker recesses of the Dani psyche. What horrors whirred behind her eyelids? What might it take to make Jack stray? “‘Ee’s over there wrapped raaaand an ex-bird,” she wailed, sounding never more like Pat Butcher’s forgotten niece. “Imagine a gel is sittin’ there. Lipstick. Tits. Makin’ ‘im cheese toasties every night.”

Well, when you put it like that Dani.

What she didn’t know however, and the viewer did, was that in fact Jack was over there, shunning the communal bedroom, sleeping alone under the stars, getting bitten to buggery, rocking away on a rattan swing bed like some bizarre Karen Carpenter tribute act, pining to return to her.

It meant that when their agonised reunion finally did occur, it took all of half a second for everything to be fine again, a reality the viewer had seen coming for quite some time. Even as scripted reality goes, it was a storyline that could have done with a touch more jeopardy. All that wailing, frankly, was poor value for money.

Elsewhere, Wes held out for Megan, a course of action not so much naive as suicidal.

For reasons best known to themselves, the girls appeared genuinely shocked to see Adam return to the villa with new plaything Darylle. Ellie’s reaction summed events up best. “Is he just a prick is he?” she whispered.

Again, it does appear Adam is the only contestant fully aware he is taking part in a dating game show. What were the girls expecting exactly, for Adam to have spent his five days away building a shrine to Zara before returning to the villa and retiring to the multi-gym to start a new life as a Cistercian monk?

By my count, there are now around 122 people in the villa, trying to sleep in Megan’s bed and failing that any bed at all. Army generals regularly observe that it is adversity that draws out personality. Goodness knows we’ve not seen much yet so we can but hope.