Rose, coming toward them. The activity in the room stops... a hush falls.
Rose feels suddenly self-conscious as the steerage passengers stare openly
at this princess, some with resentment, others with awe. She spots Jack and
gives a little smile, walking straight to him. He rises to meet her,
smiling.
ROSE
Hello Jack.
Fabrizio and Tommy are floored. Its like the slipper fitting Cinderella.
JACK
Hello again.
ROSE
Could I speak to you in private?
JACK
Uh, yes. Of course. After you.
He motions her ahead and follows. Jack glances over his shoulder, one
eyebrow raised, as he walks out with her leaving a stunned silence.
CUT TO: 73 EXT. BOAT DECK - DAY
Jack and Rose walk side by side. They pass people reading and talking in
steamer chairs, some of whom glance curiously at the mismatched couple. He
feels out of place in his rough clothes. They are both awkward, for
different reasons.
JACK
So, you got a name by the way?
ROSE
Rose. Rose DeWitt Bukater.
JACK
That's quite a moniker. I may hafta get you to write that down.
There is an awkward pause.
ROSE
Mr. Dawson, I--
JACK
Jack.
ROSE
Jack... I feel like such an idiot. It took me all morning to get up the
nerve to face you.
JACK
Well, here you are.
ROSE
Here I am. I... I want to thank you for what you did. Not just for... for
pulling me back. But for your discretion.
JACK
You're welcome. Rose.
ROSE
Look, I know what you must be thinking! Poor little rich girl. What does
she know about misery?
JACK
That's not what I was thinking. What I was thinking was... what could have
happened to hurt this girl so much she though she had no way out.
ROSE
I don't... it wasn't just one thing. It was everything. It was them, it was
their whole world. And I was trapped in it, like an insect in amber.
(in a rush)
I just had to get away... just run and run and run... and then I was at the
back rail and there was no more ship... even the Titanic wasn't big enough.
Not enough to get away from them. And before I'd really though about it, I
was over the rail. I was so furious. I'll show them. They'll be sorry!
JACK
Uh huh. They'll be sorry. 'Course you'll be dead.
ROSE (she lowers her head)
Oh God, I am such an utter fool.
JACK
That penguin last night, is he one of them?
ROSE
Penguin? Oh, Cal! He is them.
JACK
Is he your boyfriend?
ROSE
Worse I'm afraid.
She shows him her engagement ring. A sizable diamond.
JACK
Gawd look at that thing! You would have gone straight to the bottom.
They laugh together. A passing steward scowls at Jack, who is clearly not a
first class passenger, but Rose just glares at him away.
JACK
So you feel like you're stuck on a train you can't get off 'cause you're
marryin' this fella.
ROSE
Yes, exactly!
JACK
So don't marry him.
ROSE
If only it were that simple.
JACK
It is that simple.
ROSE
Oh, Jack... please don't judge me until you've seen my world.
JACK
Well, I guess I will tonight.
Looking for another topic, any other topic, she indicates his sketchbook.
ROSE
What's this?
JACK
Just some sketches.
ROSE
May I?
The question is rhetorical because she has already grabbed the book. She
sits on a deck chair and opens the sketchbook. ON JACK'S sketches... each
one an expressive little bit of humanity: an old woman's hands, a sleeping
man, a father and daughter at the rail. The faces are luminous and alive.
His book is a celebration of the human condition.
ROSE
Jack, these are quite good! Really, they are.
JACK
Well, they didn't think too much of 'em in Paree.
Some loose sketches fall out and are taken by the wind. Jack scrambles
after them... catching two, but the rest are gone, over the rail.
ROSE
Oh no! Oh, I'm so sorry. Truly!
JACK
Well, they didn't think too much of 'em in Paree.
He snaps his wrist, shaking his drawing hand in a flourish.
JACK
I just seem to spew 'em out. Besides, they're not worth a damn anyway.
For emphasis he throws away the two he caught. They sail off.
ROSE
(laughing)
You're deranged!
She goes back to the book, turning a page.
ROSE
Well, well...
She has come upon a series of nudes. Rose is transfixed by the languid
beauty he has created. His nudes are soulful, real, with expressive hands
and eyes. They feel more like portraits than studies of the human form...
almost uncomfortably intimate. Rose blushes, raising the book as some
strollers go by.
ROSE
(trying to be very adult)
And these were drawn from life?
JACK
Yup. That's one of the great things about Paris. Lots of girls willing take
their clothes off.
She studies one drawing in particular, the girl posed half in sunlight,
half in shadow. Her hands lie at her chin, one furled and one open like a
flower, languid and graceful. The drawing is like an Alfred Steiglitz print
of Georgia O'Keefe.
ROSE
You liked this woman. You used her several times.
JACK
She had beautiful hands.
ROSE
(smiling)
I think you must have had a love affair with her...
JACK
(laughing)
No, no! Just with her hands.
ROSE
(looking up from the drawings)
You have a gift, Jack. You do. You see people.
JACK
I see you.
There it is. That piercing gaze again.
ROSE
And...?
JACK
You wouldn'ta jumped.