“Well, do you not think that the moment has come?” she went on. “Do you not think that this would be the right time to marry Mma Ramotswe? Right now. Not next month or next year or whenever, but right now. Because if you do not do something about this, you may never do it. Life is perilous. At any time it could be too late. When you love another person, you must tell her, but you must also show her. You must do that thing that says to the world that you love that person. And this must never be put off, never.”

She paused, watching the effect of her words on Mr J.L.B. Matekoni. He was staring at her, his eyes slightly moist, as if he was about to burst into tears.

“You do wish to marry Mma Ramotswe, do you not?” Mma Potokwane urged.

Now there was a further silence. The Reverend Trevor Mwamba slipped a small piece of cake into his mouth and chewed on it. Mma Ramotswe herself looked down at the ground, at the edge of Mma Potokwane’s carpet. And then Mr J.L.B. Matekoni spoke.

“I will marry Mma Ramotswe right now,” he said. “If that is what Mma Ramotswe wishes, then I shall do that. I shall be proud to do that. There is no other lady I would ever wish to marry. Just Mma Ramotswe. That is all.”

It was a long speech for Mr J.L.B. Matekoni, but every word was filled with passion and a new determination.

“In that case,” said the Reverend Trevor Mwamba, wiping the crumbs from the edge of his lips. “In that case I have the prayer books in my car and I have the Bishop’s authority to perform the ceremony right here.”

“We can do it under the big tree,” said Mma Potokwane. “I will tell the children’s choir to get ready. And I will also tell the guests to prepare themselves. They will be surprised.”

THEY ASSEMBLED under the boughs of the great jacaranda tree. A table had been covered with a clean white sheet and served as an altar, and before this altar stood Mr J.L.B. Matekoni, waiting for Mma Ramotswe to be led up to him by Mma Potokwane’s husband, who had offered to give the bride away on behalf of her late father, Obed Ramotswe. Mma Potokwane had produced a suitable dress for Mma Ramotswe, in just the right size as it happened, and Mr J.L.B. Matekoni had been put into a suit by Mma Potokwane’s husband. The Reverend Trevor Mwamba had fetched his robes from his car.

When Mma Ramotswe came out of the office and walked with Mma Potokwane’s husband up to the group of people and the waiting groom, there were enthusiastic ululations from the crowd. This was how people showed their delight and pleasure and the sound was strong that day.