"What, Brooke?"
"Am—am I—to—to—congratulate you—and all that?" he stammered.
"What!" said Talbot, reproachfully.
Brooke was silent.
"Oh, Brooke," said Talbot, "what are we to do?"
"Give it up," said Brooke, in a dismal voice.
"This," continued Talbot, "is worse than when we were prisoners, and dying by turns for one another."
"I wish," said Brooke, "that I had died when I wanted to."
"And must we now give one another up?" sighed Talbot.
"Don't see what else we can do," said Brooke. "We've got to keep our confounded promises."