The Theft of Magna Carta (2014)
“Roger thought some two hours later, she’s beautiful. He kept his face set as if not at all impressed and looked at Stephenson; he had a faint feeling of revulsion which he seldom felt for a man. It was perhaps the very fair hair and near-albino lashes. The freckles. The unfinished look of his nose and lips. Had he been badly burned and been patched up by a brilliant plastic surgeon? No, Roger decided, the mass of freckles would not be there if that were so. But he had never seen a less suited couple, if appearances were anything to go by.
“This is disgraceful,” Sarah Stephenson said coldly. She had an accent which was neither American nor Canadian; perhaps she was English but had lived on the other side of the Atlantic for a long time. Her phraseology and her icy manner were undoubtedly English. “You have no right to invade our privacy at this hour.”
Stephenson grunted: “It’s an insult, that’s what I call it.”
“I’m sorry,”
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