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that was not forthcoming.
    As she brushed off the last of the hairs, from inside the office she could hear Mma Makutsi’s voice and then, less distinctly, the voice of the client. She stopped; she was standing just outside the door, which was slightly ajar. The voices inside were clear now, and she could hear exactly what was being said. She put her hand on the door handle, and then took it off again. She had not intended to eavesdrop, but she could make out exactly what was going on inside, and this made her hesitate.
    Those who listen in to what others are saying hear no good of themselves.
Her aunt had told her that when she was a girl, and she had always remembered the advice. But this was not listening in—this was overhearing something because you were about to enter the room in which the conversation in question was being conducted. She could not help but hear what was being said in the office—and she could not help her mouth from opening in astonishment. So this was what Mma Makutsi said when she was not there to exercise restraint, when she was not in a position to protect the cause of truth…

CHAPTER THREE

I WANTED TO SEE THE PLACE I LOVED SO MUCH
    “Y ES,” Mma Ramotswe heard Mma Makutsi say, “you were right to come to us, Mma. You were so right.”
    Something was said by the other woman that Mma Ramotswe did not catch.
    “Indeed, Mma,” continued Mma Makutsi. “Indeed that is true. And you asked about how long we have been established. The answer is a long time, Mma, a very long time. You see I thought—back in those days when we set up the agency—that there was a need for a business like this to help people, Mma, to help them with the problems in their lives. Those were my exact words, Mma. You know how businesses have mottoes these days—things like ‘We are here to serve,’ that sort of thing. Well ours is ‘We are here to help people with the problems in their lives.’ And you know something, Mma? Once we started we were overwhelmed with enquiries…”
    Mma Ramotswe caught her breath. Overwhelmed with enquiries? That was simply not true; had Mma Makutsi forgotten what it had been like? Did she not recall how they had waited and waited for people to come in the front door under the newly painted sign, and for days nobody had come? At one point some chickens had wandered in and pecked at the ground around their feet, and she remembered saying to Mma Makutsi: “At last we have some clients, Mma,” and Mma Makutsi had not seen the joke because in those days her sense of humour had not been much developed. It was something to do with having been born and brought up in Bobonong, where presumably nothing amusing ever happened. Now, of course, she had a much better sense of humour, although sometimes Mma Ramotswe still had to explain the finer points of some humorous remark; but then we all had our weaknesses and one should not dwell on the failings of others.
    But how could she say “when we set up the agency…”?
I
set up the agency, Mma Ramotswe thought, and although I don’t expect credit, nor would I ever fish for compliments, the simple historical truth was that Mma Makutsi had come to ask for her job
after
the agency had been established. And she was in those days a secretary in the old-fashioned sense of the word. Secretaries had promoted themselves to something different these days and it seemed as if there were no secretaries any more. Mma Ramotswe was not one of those people who believed in holding people back—anything but—yet she felt that there was a role for secretaries, and it was a good and honourable one, and she did not see why people should be so keen to stop being a secretary and become something else.
    “We’ve expanded,” went on Mma Makutsi. “To begin with it was just me and the other lady, but we were so busy that I thought we needed a bit of help. So we have a very charming man—a Mr. Polopetsi—who is a very scientific man, Mma, and he brought all those