Mma Makutsi nodded enthusiastically. “I shall ignore him altogether,” she said. “It will be as if he is not there. When he talks I shall simply look up in the sky—like this—as if I can hear something but am not sure what it is.”

Mma Ramotswe gently explained that this was not what she had in mind. “Don’t repay rudeness with rudeness, Mma. It is much better to show a rude person how to behave. Have you not seen how well that works?”

“I have not seen that, Mma.”

Mma Ramotswe knew she would not persuade Mma Makutsi, but she continued nonetheless. “Well, it does work. A rude person wants you to be rude back to him. He really likes that. But if you just smile and are very polite, then he will realise that his rudeness has not hurt you. He has achieved nothing.”

This was greeted with silence, and Mma Ramotswe decided that it would be best to move on to another subject. There was work to do: a report to be typed up and sent off to a client, which would keep them busy for the hour or so before lunch time. Both she and Mma Makutsi went home for lunch now—Mma Ramotswe in her van and Mma Makutsi in the car sent for her by Phuti. This car, which had The Double Comfort Furniture Store emblazoned on its side, had been the subject of some remark by the two junior mechanics. “She is very grand now,” Charlie had said. “Too grand to go on public transport, like the rest of us. You may have to sit next to some poor person in a minibus. She is now too big for that.”

Fanwell, who had at last qualified—though Charlie had not done so, and was still an apprentice—was more charitable. “It must be very nice to have a car with a driver,” he said. “Maybe if I marry a girl who has a furniture store that will happen to me.”

“That will never happen,” said Charlie. “Girls with furniture stores are looking for someone more exciting than you, Fanwell. Sorry about that.”

The inference was clear: these furniture-store girls, whoever they were, would be more satisfied with Charlie than they would be with Fanwell. That was probably true, thought Mma Ramotswe, who had overheard this conversation, but the fact that something was true was not always justification for saying it.