“We don’t need one of those,” said Mma Ramotswe. “We know where we are.”

Mr. Polopetsi looked puzzled. “We’re in Gaborone, Mma.”

“That’s what I meant,” said Mma Ramotswe. She had stopped, and was looking at some of the other items on display. The woman behind the table had been perched on a small folding stool, and now stood up. She was an ungainly-looking woman, but the eye went to her smile.

“I have many nice things here, Mma,” she said to Mma Ramotswe. “Even things for your husband.”

Mma Ramotswe chuckled. “Oh, this is not my husband, this is just…” She stopped herself. She was not sure that Mr. Polopetsi had noticed, but it was as if she were laughing off the possibility that she could possibly be married to such a…to such a small man. And she had not meant that.

“Unfortunately,” she said quickly. “I would be a lucky woman to have a nice man like this as my husband.”

The woman looked quickly at Mr. Polopetsi—and then at Mma Ramotswe—and she understood. “Yes, my sister,” she said. “A man with a nice face is always a very good catch. Many of the sisters would agree with us on that.”

Mr. Polopetsi beamed. He said nothing, but somehow he seemed to grow back into his clothes; not entirely, but it was at least noticeable.

Mma Ramotswe watched him. He had picked up a tie and peered at the price tag. Shaking his head, he put it back on its rack. She reached for the tie and examined it herself. It was dark red, with a small eagle motif running across it at an angle. “Eagles,” she said. “This is very nice.”

“Those are very popular,” said the woman. “Everyone is wearing them now.”

“The good men are wearing them,” replied Mma Ramotswe. “The bad men are wearing ties with vultures on them, maybe.”

The other woman laughed. It was a loud, raucous laugh that seemed to go perfectly with her ungainly appearance. Mr. Polopetsi smiled. “It is a very smart tie,” he said. “Very smart. But it is too expensive, Mma.”

Mma Ramotswe held the tie against the front of his shirt, obscuring the thin grey tie he was already wearing.

“More colour,” said the other woman. “You see what a difference it makes. You see that, Mma?”

“I certainly do, Mma.” She looked at the price tag. “It is not all that expensive.”

“It’s a bargain,” said the woman. “Buy cheap, sell cheap, you see. That’s the motto of my business.”