But no, there was something else. “I have a son,” he said. “I have a son who is called Phuti. He is a very good man, but he has not found a wife. That is because he is a very shy man, and has always been like that. He cannot speak properly, and his words come out very slowly. That makes him very shy with women. I think that maybe the girls used to laugh at him when he was younger.”

“People can be very cruel,” said Mma Ramotswe.

“Yes,” said Mr Radiphuti. “But now he has met a very nice lady.”

Ah, thought Mma Ramotswe. This is why he has come to see me. He has come to ask me to find out something about this lady. She had been asked many times to do that sort of thing—to investigate a prospective marriage partner. It was a common thing for detectives to do, and indeed there was a whole section in Clovis Andersen’s book about how to approach such a task.

“Who is this lady?” asked Mma Ramotswe. “If you give me her name, then I shall see if I can find out anything about her for you. I can find out whether she would make a good wife for your son.”

Mr Radiphuti fingered his hat awkwardly. “Oh, I am sure that she would make a very good wife for him,” he said. “And I think that you would know that thing already.”

Mma Ramotswe looked at him in incomprehension, and he broke into a smile. “You see, Mma,” Mr Radiphuti went on, “the lady works in that office over there, just behind you. So you will know her very well.”

For a few moments Mma Ramotswe did not say anything. Then, very quietly, she said, “I see.” Then she paused, and said again, “I see.”

“Yes,” said Mr Radiphuti. “My son has been seeing your assistant. She has been very kind to him and has made his dancing much better. She has also helped his speaking, because she has given him confidence. I am very happy about that. But there is a problem.”

Mma Ramotswe’s heart sank. She had allowed herself to hope, on Mma Makutsi’s behalf, but now it seemed that there was some difficulty. It would be a familiar story of disappointment for Mma Makutsi. That seemed inevitable now.

Mr Radiphuti slowly drew breath before proceeding—a thick, wheezy sound. “I know that my son would like to marry this lady, I am sure of that. But I am also sure that he will never get round to asking her. He is too shy. In fact, he has told me that he cannot ask her because he would just stutter and stutter and no words would come. So he does not feel that he can ask her this important question.”

He stopped, and looked imploringly at Mma Ramotswe.