“He never does any work for his mechanical exams,” said Mma Ramotswe. “He gets very bad results. It's his own fault.”

“He'll qualify one day,” said Mma Potokwane. “Even if he doesn't get … what is the figure again, Mma?”

“Ninety-seven per cent,” answered Mma Ramotswe.

They both laughed. Then Mma Potokwane made tea, which she served with several slices of fruit cake. They drank three cups of tea each, and then, after a final slice of fruit cake—a small one—Mma Ramotswe got into her new blue van and drove back into town.

In the office, Mma Makutsi greeted her with the look that said, You've missed something.

“Somebody has been in, Mma Makutsi?”

“Yes. That woman.”

Mma Ramotswe looked blank.

“That Sephotho woman.”

She had not expected that. “Violet?” Perhaps she had come in to threaten them; she would not put that past her.

“No, the other one. Lily Sephotho. The one with two husbands.”

Mma Ramotswe sat down at her desk. It was turning into an eventful day, what with her successful resolution of the Molofololo case and now the return of the woman with two husbands.

“And what did she report, Mma?”

Mma Makutsi was evidently enjoying herself. “She reported that she had done as we told her to. She had confessed to both husbands. And she said that both were very angry and threw her out. Our idea of choosing the one who was most forgiving was not a very good one. Neither was prepared to forgive.”

Mma Ramotswe spread her hands in a gesture of resignation. “That really is her own fault, Mma. I'm sorry to say it, but it's her own fault. So what now?”

Mma Makutsi's enjoyment increased. “Well, it gets better, Mma. She confessed to me that she hadn't really told us the whole truth. She hadn't told us that there was a third husband. She hadn't mentioned him because she was too embarrassed.”

“And this husband? What about him?”

“She says that she has learned her lesson, and she is keeping him. So she now has only one husband and everything has worked out well.”

“She is a very foolish woman,” said Mma Ramotswe. She stopped. Of course Lily Sephotho was foolish, but were we not all foolish, in one way or another, and did we not all deserve a second, or even a third chance?

Mma Ramotswe turned round. “Well, I hope now that she is happy. Happier than her daughter at least …”

Mma Makutsi shook her head. “No, she is not Violet's mother, Mma Ramotswe. I asked her about that, and she is an entirely different Sephotho. It is a coincidence that they both have names of flowers.”

Mma Ramotswe got to her feet. “Well, Mma Makutsi,” she said. “That settles all that. And everything else is settled, I think, which is how we really like it to be: settled. We are settled ladies, I think.” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “So now we should get ready.”