I don't know about you, but I intend to write a strongly worded letter to
the White Star Line about all this.
She laughs weakly, but it sounds like a gasp of fear. Rose finds his eyes
in the dim light.
I love you Jack.
He takes her hand.
No... don't say your good-byes, Rose. Don't you give up. Don't do it.
I'm so cold.
You're going to get out of this... you're going to go on and you're going
to make babies and watch them grow and you're going to die an old lady,
warm in your bed. Not here. Not this night. Do you understand me?
I can't feel my body.
Rose, listen to me. Listen. Winning that ticket was the best thing that
ever happened to me.
Jack is having trouble getting the breath to speak.
It brought me to you. And I'm thankful, Rose. I'm thankful.
His voice is trembling with the cold which is working tis way to his heart.
But his eyes are unwavering.
You must do me this honor... promise me you will survive... that you will
never give up... no matter what happens... no matter how hopeless...
promise me now, and never let go of that promise.
Never let go.
I promise. I will never let go, Jack. I'll never let go.
She grips his hand and they lie with their heads together. It is quiet now,
except for the lapping of the water.
"Son, you're about as useful as a poopie-flavoured lollipop"