He had been so profoundly absorbed in his own ideas that she had been nothing more individual than one of an audience.

If he were to meet her in the street he would probably not recognize her.

And this was a man who had never before seen a woman whose beauty had passed into history, a man who had risen to his place through what the Judge had described with charitable euphemism, as "unusual methods." "The odd part about Vetch," the Judge had added meditatively on the drive home, "is that he doesn't attempt to disguise the kind of thing that we of the old school would call--well, to say the least--extraordinary.

He is as outspoken as Mirabeau.

I can't make it out.