Mma Ramotswe was loyal. “Mma Makutsi is pretty in every light, I think. When I said ‘but,’ I was about to say that there are some people who think that her glasses are too big.”

“I am one of those,” said Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni. “Are big glasses more powerful than small glasses? I do not think so: it is what is in the glass that counts, not how much glass there is.” He paused. “But her eyes are quite big, aren’t they? Have you seen them, Mma Ramotswe? They are big, like the eyes of a kudu.”

Mma Ramotswe felt uncomfortable at the direction the conversation was taking. She had not intended that they should get into such a detailed discussion of Mma Makutsi’s appearance, and she decided that it was time to return to the subject of the dowry.

“This bogadi business,” she said. “I have never been sure about it, Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni.”

Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni had paid ten cattle for Mma Ramotswe. Was she now offering to give them back? “Those ten cattle I paid,” he began. “Ten good cattle. Fat ones…”

The cattle had certainly been large, sweet-smelling beasts who had been specially fed on bales of lucerne bought at some expense from over the border; they had grown fat and their coats had shone with health. They were a worthy tribute to Mma Ramotswe, and although three had been taken by one of her uncles, and another had been slaughtered for the marriage feast of one of her cousins, those that remained were out at her cattle post and by all accounts doing well.

She made it clear that it was not those cattle she was talking about. The negotiations that had preceded their marriage had been model ones, with her family readily agreeing to what was proposed by the aged uncle who had acted for Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni. No, that was not the sort of case that concerned her; she was worried about those cases where the husband had great difficulty in finding the means to pay the bride price. People got themselves into debt; they spent money which should have been spent on other things. But most of all she thought that the whole idea made women seem like property—things that could be bought.

“Would it not be better if a man did not have to pay for his wife?” she asked Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni. “I am not one to disturb old customs unnecessarily, but wouldn’t it be better?”

Rather to her surprise, Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni was quick to agree. “Yes. It would be better. You pay for a car, you do not pay for a wife.”

Mma Ramotswe looked at him with admiration. “That is a very modern view, Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni,” she said, almost adding “for a man,” but not doing so. Men could be modern too, she reminded herself.