Of course, to Mma Makutsi and Phuti the task of furnishing a house was considerably less daunting than it would be to most young couples. Not only was money not an issue in the same way that it was for average newlyweds, but Phuti’s expertise when it came to choosing items would be invaluable. “Everything we sell,” he said, “is of the highest quality and built to last. But some things are of higher quality than others, and also built to last longer.”

Mma Makutsi considered this. “That means that some of your things are better than others?”

“You could say that,” said Phuti. “Although we do not say that ourselves, or people would then ask us which was the better furniture and they would buy that and leave the stuff that’s not so good. That is always a big problem for people who have shops. So you have to say that everything’s first class.”

“And this is true, isn’t it?” asked Mma Makutsi.

“Yes,” said Phuti. “Only some first-class items are more first class than others.”

“I see.”

That afternoon they were to look at sofas and beds. They had already identified a dining-room table and a set of eight matching chairs: these had been ordered from a trade catalogue and would arrive from over the border a few weeks later. The sofa and the bed would be chosen from the large stock that the Double Comfort Furniture Store, the largest furniture store in the country, already had in the showroom.

They left Phuti’s office and made their way into the cavernous warehouse that was the Double Comfort Furniture Store. As they entered the store itself, they passed one of the employees, a middle-aged woman wearing a smock and carrying a bag of what looked like polishing equipment. The woman stopped, smiled at Phuti, and then turned to Mma Makutsi.

“It is you, Mma,” she said. “I’m very happy to see you.”

Phuti introduced her. “This is Mma Rosemary. She has worked here for a long, long time.”

“Every day,” said Mma Rosemary. “Same job.”

Mma Makutsi greeted her in the traditional way. She had noticed the courteous way in which Phuti dealt with his employees and had once mentioned the fact to Mma Ramotswe, who had commented that if that was so, then she could be sure that he would make a good husband. “A man who is polite to the people he is in authority over will always be a good man,” she said. “Look at Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni; he is always polite to the apprentices. And he is a very fine husband, Mma.” She paused. “He is even polite to Charlie, Mma—even when Charlie is being … well, you know how Charlie can be.”