“And I said to him: How is Violet Sephotho doing in the shop? And he said, She is very good at her job—first class, in fact. So I said, Oh, I see. So she is a natural saleslady, is she? And he said to me, Yes, on the first day she sold four beds, and on the second she sold three. Then yesterday she sold two more. That is very good.”

“It seems that there are many people needing new beds,” Mma Ramotswe observed.

“So it seems. And then I said to him: Does she have far to travel to get to her work? And he looked at me in a surprised way—you know how his nose wrinkles when he is puzzled?—and then he said, No, she does not live too far away. So I said, Does she walk home then? And he said, That is a very strange question. Why are you so interested in this Violet person?”

“Surely he can tell,” said Mma Ramotswe. “Surely he can see what sort of woman she is?”

“Men are not very good at that, Mma,” Mma Makutsi said. “We all know how they cannot tell these things. And so I said, Did I not see her in your car?”

Mma Ramotswe held her breath. “And he said?”

Mma Makutsi popped a small piece of potato into her mouth. “And he said, Yes, I drove her home on that first day She said that she had to be back in good time to cook a meal for her sick aunt.” Mma Makutsi made her disbelief apparent.

“It is possible,” said Mma Ramotswe. “I had an aunt who was not very well and …”

“Oh, anything is possible, Mma Ramotswe. It's just that I cannot imagine Violet cooking for a sick aunt. But I can imagine her telling Phuti a story like that so that he thinks, This is a kind girl who is cooking for her aunt. I can imagine that all right.”

The important thing, thought Mma Ramotswe, was how Phuti had reacted to Mma Makutsi's questioning. Did he sense that she was concerned about Violet?

“I don't think so,” said Mma Makutsi. “But I am still very worried, Mma. What if she succeeds in making him fonder of her? What then? He is a good man, but even a good man can fall for a glamorous woman. That is well known.”

“That is very well known,” agreed Mma Ramotswe. “Look at Adam. Look how he fell for Eve.”

“Just because she had no clothes on, he fell for her,” said Mma Makutsi.

“That sometimes helps,” said Mma Ramotswe.

They both laughed. And then it was time for pears and ice cream, and the conversation shifted to talk about the first time that either of them remembered eating ice cream. “I was eight,” said Mma Ramotswe. “My father took me into Gaborone and he bought me an ice cream. I have never been so excited, Mma. It was a very great day for me.”