For his part, Phuti enjoyed the experience, and dropped broad hints that he was at the agency’s disposal at any time they needed his services. Mma Makutsi had smiled, and promised to pass the message on to Mma Ramotswe. And then, in the glow of warmth over a job well done, she had confessed to him about the bed.

“It is the second bed,” she said. “The one you have taken from the garage and put into storage is the second bed. I ruined the first. It was all my fault.”

He had listened sympathetically and taken her hand at the end of the story. “I thought that there was something odd about it,” he said. “But I didn’t like to ask. This one has a different pattern on the headboard. I noticed that straightaway. And…”

She caught her breath. What would he think of her for not having told him before? Perhaps she should tell him that she had simply forgotten to do so, but that would be another lie, and she was ashamed enough of the first one.

“I knew that you did it so that I should not be upset,” said Phuti. “You were very kind.”

Mma Makutsi said nothing.

“You are so kind to me,” said Phuti. “I am a very fortunate man.”

The writing of the report on their case kept Mma Makutsi busy for a time, but once that was done she seemed to pick up the unease which was affecting her employer, and she took it upon herself to engage in a restless sorting through of old files and refiling them according to a new system that she was in the process of developing. Both of them drank too much tea; the act of putting on the kettle and making the tea was at least a ritual which could divert them for twenty minutes or so, and if one did it often enough a morning or an afternoon would slip by quickly enough.

At least Mma Ramotswe knew the cause, or rather the causes, of her unease. Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni and Motholeli were due back in two days’ time, and she was anxious about their return. But there was more than that. She had made the occasional mistake in her professional life, she was not perfect, but the mistake that she felt she had made in introducing Mma Sebina to Mr. Sekape was, she thought, one of the more serious ones. I should have been more careful, she told herself; I should have thought about it. I should have spoken to them both separately before I introduced them. I should have done everything differently. Such thoughts now played on her mind, and she considered each one of them in turn, and then went back to the first and started again.