He was in his English judicial dress of scarlet and black, but she scarcely noticed it.

For her, too, no one else existed but, He; this vast assemblage was gone, poised and transfigured in one vibrating atmosphere of an immense human emotion.
There was no one, anywhere, but Julian Felsenburgh.

Peace and light burned like a glory about Him.
For an instant after passing he disappeared beyond the speaker's tribune, and the instant after reappeared once more, coming up the steps.

He reached his place--she could see His profile beneath her and slightly to the left, pure and keen as the blade of a knife, beneath His white hair.

He lifted one white-furred sleeve, made a single motion, and with a surge and a rumble, the ten thousand were seated.