Despite the crushing disappointment that is his life, post-war, Jake tries to behave well, in a moral sense. He fails in this when he sets Brett up with the bullfighter Pedro Romero, thus hurting her admirer (and Jake's friend) Robert Cohn and running the risk of destroying Romero's career before it has even begun. In fact, Jake wants very much to damage Cohn. He can't stand that someone whom he feels to be deeply unworthy of Brett's love should have her — and Cohn has never served in combat. Thus, he is less than a man in Jake's estimation. Notice that Jake approves of the Count, whose body is tattooed with war wounds. Though Romero is not a veteran per se, he faces death every day in the bullring. Therefore, Jake sees Romero as a satisfactory proxy for Jake himself; as a result, he does indeed "pimp" for Brett, just as Cohn says.
Jake fails morally during the fiesta of San Fermin, and he knows it. Still, like all of Hemingway's heroes, he stoically tries to get on with life anyway. Note that despite his horrifying physical condition, Jake never pities himself, except on occasion when he's very drunk and — significantly — alone. (A Hemingway hero would never bellyache about his problems within earshot of someone else.) And although Jake cannot have sexual intercourse, he undeniably can love others: his friend Bill Gorton, his mentor Montoya, and of course Brett herself. Jake's devotion to Brett knows no bounds, as proven by the novel's final chapter, in which he travels cross-country to be with her in Brett's time of need. Though Jake thinks of himself as someone for whom love is impossible, precisely the opposite proves true.
