She tried to keep her voice even, but it rose in spite of her efforts. “It is not a business, Rra. It is a home for children. That is not a business.”

Mr. Ditso laughed. “Mma Ramotswe, everything is a business these days. Even countries. They are businesses too. Churches. Look at how careful churches are with their money. They have accountants running them. Even the Pope—I have heard that he has trained as an accountant.”

Clovis Andersen could not let that pass. “That is surely not true, sir,” he said.

Ditso Ditso did not look at him as he replied. “What is true?” he said airily. “Who can tell? One man says something is true; another says it is not. How can any of us tell?”

This comment brought silence. Clovis Andersen looked at Mma Ramotswe and frowned. She stared down at her hands. “You won’t reconsider, Rra?” she said quietly. “There are many people who would be very happy if you did.”

Mr. Ditso shook his head. “Sorry, Mma, but the decision has been taken. I’m sure that Mma Potokwane will find something else. As you say, she has many talents, and there are these hotels looking for good housekeepers. How about that? She’d probably make much more money doing that.”

“It is not about money,” retorted Mma Ramotswe. “She does not do what she does for money. The children need her.”

Mr. Ditso smiled. “The hotels have their needs too, Mma. It is good work. If there were not good hotels, then where would visitors sleep? They need people like Mma Potokwane.”

Mma Ramotswe sighed. “It is such a small thing, Rra: to have an argument over a building. Why is a building that important?”

Mr. Ditso stiffened.

“It is not about a building,” he said. “It is not about that.” Then he added, “The building contract has been awarded on tender. There is no reason for disagreement there.”

For a moment Mma Ramotswe said nothing, and sat quite still. Then she rose to her feet. “What you are doing is wrong, Rra. You do know that, don’t you?”

He held her gaze. “That is your view, Mma. But you are the one who is wrong. And please do not be cross with me for saying this, but this has nothing to do with you. I do not wish to be rude to a lady like you, but I have to say that. This is not your business, Mma. That is all there is to it. It is not your business.”

THE FIRST PART of their journey back to the office was completed in silence. Mma Ramotswe felt raw after the encounter with Ditso Ditso, and did not want to speak; but then, almost at the same moment, as Mma Ramotswe negotiated the traffic circle near the automotive trades training centre, they both poured out their feelings over what had happened.