It seemed utterly impossible that he and Mr. Brown could be one and the same.
He and Mr. Brown were the same person.
It was very plausible that he was Mr. Brown.
He wondered if she was drinking coffee or tea.
There is a public garden district, with Plumer Square in the middle of it.
A few people stand next to a pool and drink cocktails.
A woman breakdancing in front of a crowd.
There could be Apaches, Kitchell, or bandidos watching the range and waiting to grab anything left unprotected.
If anything, the exposure of his bias makes it easier to accept his arguments where government action is concerned.