The Sun Also Rises: Chapters 1–7

There was a certain inner comfort in knowing he could knock down anybody who was snooty to him, although, being very shy and a thoroughly nice boy, he never fought except in the gym.

The lady who had him, her name was Frances, found toward the end of the second year that her looks were going, and her attitude toward Robert changed from one of careless possession and exploitation to the absolute determination that he should marry her.

"None of your exalted connections getting divorces?"

We sat and drank it, and the girl looked sullen.

We would probably have gone on and discussed the war and agreed that it was in reality a calamity for civilization, and perhaps would have been better avoided.

"But you have the same name," Mrs. Braddocks insisted cordially.

She turned to Frances, sitting smiling, her hands folded, her head poised on her long neck, her lips pursed ready to start talking again.

When we arrived it was quite empty, except for a policeman sitting near the door, the wife of the proprietor back of the zinc bar, and the proprietor himself.

I know they are supposed to be amusing, and you should be tolerant, but I wanted to swing on one, any one, anything to shatter that superior, simpering composure.

I know they are supposed to be amusing, and you should be tolerant, but I wanted to swing on one, any one, anything to shatter that superior, simpering composure.

"Oh, how charmingly you get angry," he said. "I wish I had that faculty."

There was a light in the concierge's room and I knocked on the door and she gave me my mail.

Undressing, I looked at myself in the mirror of the big armoire beside the bed.

My head started to work. The old grievance. Well, it was a rotten way to be wounded and flying on a joke front like the Italian.

That was where the liaison colonel came to visit me.

"The count?"
"Himself. And a chauffeur in livery..."

At eleven o'clock I went over to the Quai d'Orsay in a taxi and went in and sat with about a dozen correspondents, while the foreign-office mouthpiece, a young Nouvelle Revue Française diplomat in horn-rimmed spectacles, talked and answered questions for half an hour.

The sommelier brought the beer, tall, beaded on the outside of the steins, and cold.

Crossing the Seine I saw a string of barges being towed empty down the current, riding high, the bargemen at the sweeps as they came toward the bridge.

The taxi rounded the statue of the inventor of the semaphore engaged in doing same, and turned up the Boulevard Raspail, and I sat back to let that part of the ride pass.

She looked up, very bright-eyed and trying to talk inconsequentially.

And I haven't got any money at all. I could have had alimony, but I got the divorce the quickest way.

You mustn't misunderstand, Jake, it was absolutely platonic with the secretary. Not even platonic. Nothing at all, really.

"Yes, Monsieur Barnes. And that lady, that lady there is some one. An eccentric, perhaps, but quelqu'une, quelqu'une!"

The concierge, before she became a concierge, had owned a drink-selling concession at the Paris race-courses.

While I dressed I heard Brett put down glasses and then a siphon, and then heard them talking.

"We never agreed."
"Oh, you know as well as I do. Don't be obstinate, darling."

Below the line where his ribs stopped were two raised white welts. "See on the back where they come out." Above the small of the back were the same two scars, raised as thick as a finger.

"I say. Don't be ostentatious. Call him off, Jake."

"Listen, my dear. I get more value for my money in old brandy than in any other antiquities."