Mma Makutsi was silent as she took the ring from the box and fitted it onto her finger. She looked at Phuti and began to say something, but stopped. It was hard to find the words; that she who had been given so little, should now get this; that this gift, beyond her wildest yearnings, should come from him; how could she express what she felt?

“One of our diamonds?”

“Yes. It is from our land.”

She pressed the ring, and the stone, to her cheek. It was cold to the touch; so precious; so pure.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

THE GOOD IMPRESSION PRINTING WORKS

EVERYBODY, apart from Mr. Polopetsi, and the younger apprentice of course, now had something to investigate. They approached this task with differing degrees of enthusiasm—Mr J.L.B. Matekoni, who believed that his investigation was almost over, felt buoyant. He now had photographic evidence—or at least one photograph of Mr. Botumile’s love nest—and all he had to do now was to find the name of the person who lived there. That was a simple enquiry which would not take long, and armed with the answer he could go to Mma Botumile and give her the information she needed. That would undoubtedly please her, but, more than that, it would impress Mma Ramotswe, who would be surprised at the speed with which he had managed to bring the enquiry to a satisfactory conclusion. The exposed film had been deposited at the chemist for developing and would be ready later that morning; there was no reason, then, why he should not see Mma Botumile the following day. To this end he telephoned her and asked if she would care to come to the office at any time convenient to her. He might have expected a snippy response even to that simple invitation. And that is what he got: no time, she said, was convenient. “I am an extremely busy woman,” she snapped. “But you can call on me, maybe I will be in, maybe not.”

Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni sighed as he replaced the receiver. There were some people, it seemed, who were incapable of being pleasant about anything; that was what they were like when it came to the mending of their cars, and that was what they were like in relation to everything. Of course, the cars that such people drove tended to be difficult as well, now that he came to think about it. Nice cars have nice drivers; bad cars have bad drivers. A person’s gearbox revealed everything that you could want to know about that person, thought Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni.