“That is good,” said Mma Ramotswe. “Then he will get a permanent leg later on?”

Mma Makutsi nodded. “I think that is the plan. Temporary leg, then permanent leg.”

“I am very sorry about all this,” said Mma Ramotswe. “You know that, don’t you, Mma? You and Phuti did not deserve this thing. You have been so good to him, and he is such a fine man. But we cannot control the things that happen, can we?”

Mma Makutsi considered this. “We cannot. And thank you, Mma, for saying that you are sorry. That makes my heart feel a little bit better.”

They drank tea together. Then Mma Ramotswe left to return home. She was no longer worried about Mma Makutsi; her assistant, she was sure, had deep wells of strength and character to draw upon. If you came from Bobonong, if you came from nothing and nowhere and got to where she had got to, then you were capable of dealing with most forms of adversity; she was sure of that.

THE NEXT DAY, with Mma Makutsi still on compassionate leave, Mma Ramotswe decided to start work on the case of Mrs. Grant. It would be a good case, she thought—there were few duties in life that were more enjoyable than that of informing another person of some piece of good fortune. Occasionally it fell to her during the course of her work to do just that—to give somebody the news of an unexpected inheritance from a forgotten relative, or to tell them of an insurance payout, or even a reward. Individual reactions to this sort of news varied; there were those who were frankly ecstatic, who ululated with delight; others were more controlled and pensive about why this stroke of good luck had come to them; others were greedy, and eager to find out whether the money they were about to receive could in any way be increased. If there was one legacy, might there be another? Might the insurance company be persuaded to pay out just a little bit more? For the most part, though, people were simply human in such circumstances, and behaved like children to whom a large bag of sweets had suddenly been dispensed. And why not? For most people, life was hard, and either uneventful or composed of the wrong sort of event; these little moments of material pleasure were harmless enough in the grand scheme of things.