Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni now added something instead. “Of course, you cannot take a wife back as you can take a car back. There is a difference there.”

Mma Ramotswe frowned. She was not sure why he had said this or what it meant, but she decided not to seek clarification. Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni generally meant well, and was respectful of women—unlike the apprentices.

“What’s worrying me,” she said, “is the negotiations. Did you hear that Mma Makutsi’s uncle has been down in Gaborone?”

Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni had not heard this. “Nobody tells me about these matters,” he said. “I did not know that.”

“Well, he has been. He is a very odd-looking man with a broken nose. I caught a glimpse of him when I dropped her off after work one afternoon. He came to the gate.”

“There are some strange people up there,” said Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni. “Bobonong, isn’t it?”

Mma Ramotswe nodded. “That is where they are from. Not all people from up there are like that, but sometimes…”

“I wonder how his nose was broken,” mused Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni. “I knew a mechanic once who had a car door slammed on his nose. It was a very bad thing to happen.”

Mma Ramotswe drew in her breath sharply. “On his nose?”

“Yes,” said Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni. “It was very sore, I think.”

Mma Ramotswe was puzzled. “But how did it happen? Why was his nose in the way?” She could understand how fingers got slammed in car doors, but it would be difficult, she thought, to get one’s nose in the wrong place.

“He was leaning into the car,” said Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni. “And I think that his nose was quite a long one.”

For a moment neither of them spoke. There were many dangers in this world, and the longer one journeyed through life the more one understood how varied these dangers were. That, thought Mma Ramotswe, was why one worried more and more about others: one could imagine the manifold disasters that might befall them. And she did not want anything unpleasant to happen to others; Mma Ramotswe wished ill on nobody. In particular, she would not wish that any man, no matter how long his nose, should suffer indignity and pain on that account.

She brought the conversation back to Mma Makutsi’s uncle. “He is a greedy man, I fear. He has asked for too much.”

Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni sighed. “That is exactly what an uncle should not do,” he said. “It makes everything very complicated.”

“Exactly.” Mma Ramotswe paused. “You said eight cattle for Mma Makutsi?”

“That would be about right,” said Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni. “She is a competent lady. She is educated. And the Radiphuti family can easily afford eight cattle.”