Mma Ramotswe clapped her hands in delight. “Oh, this is the sort of work I like,” she said. “Judging men! Men are always looking at women and judging them. Now we have the chance to do some judging back. Oh, this is a very good case to take on.”

“I can pay you very well,” said Mma Holonga, reaching for the large black handbag she had placed by the side of her chair. “If you tell me how much it will cost, I shall pay it.”

“I shall send you a bill,” said Mma Ramotswe. “That is what we do. Then you can pay me for my time.” She paused. “But first, you must tell me about these men, Mma. I shall need some information on them. Then I shall set to work.”

Mma Holonga sat back in her seat. “I am happy to talk about men, Mma. And now I shall begin with the first of these men.”

Mma Ramotswe looked into her tea cup. It was still half-full of bush tea. That would be enough to see her through one man, perhaps, but not four. So she reached forward, picked up the tea-pot, and offered to fill Mma Holonga’s cup before attending to her own. That was the old Botswana way of doing things, and that is how Mma Ramotswe behaved. Modern people could say what they liked, but nobody had ever come up with a better way of doing things and in Mma Ramotswe’s view nobody ever would.

CHAPTER FIVE

MR J.L.B. MATEKONI HAS CAUSE TO REFLECT

IT WAS some time before it dawned on Mr J.L.B. Matekoni that Mma Potokwane may have thought that he was agreeing to her proposition. His own recollection of what had happened was very clear. He had said, “I shall think about it, Mma,” which is very different-as anybody could see-from saying that one would definitely do something. It might have been better had he refused her there and then, but Mr J.L.B. Matekoni was a kind man and like all kind men he did not enjoy saying no. There were many who had no such compunction, of course; they would refuse things outright, even if it meant hurting another’s feelings.