Tea Time for the Traditionally Built Read Online Free PDF

had thought was her brother decided that they were really rather fond of one another—fond enough to get married—then that had surely been a happy result. And then there had been the case of Happy Bapetsi, one of their very first cases, in which they had discovered that Happy's father was an impostor. Or Kremlin, the frequenter of the Go-Go Handsome Man's Bar, the philandering husband; Mma Ramotswe had proved him to be exactly that— a philanderer—and even if that was not the outcome that Kremlin's wife wanted, it was surely better for her to know. So success and failure in the private detection business were not always as clear-cut as they might seem, but again it had been difficult to persuade Mma Makutsi of this and the subject had been dropped.
    Now, moving aside to let Mr. Leungo Molofololo enter the office, Mma Makutsi said, “Mma Ramotswe, this is your ten o'clock appointment.”
    Mr. Leungo Molofololo looked at his watch. “And I am here at precisely four minutes past ten, you will observe, Mma. I like to be punctual, you see.”
    “That is a great virtue, Rra,” said Mma Ramotswe, rising from her seat and gesturing for him to sit down.
    “Yes,” said Mr. Leungo Molofololo. “If only more people cultivated that virtue in Africa, then life would work more smoothly. You have heard of the Germans, Mma? I have been told that everything they do runs on time. Bang, bang. Like that. On the minute.”
    “That is the Swiss, Rra,” said Mma Makutsi from behind.
    Mr. Leungo Molofololo turned and looked at Mma Makutsi, who smiled back at him. “They may be very punctual, Mma. It is possible that both the Swiss and the Germans are very punctual— and there may be others. We do not necessarily know. I was, however, talking about the Germans, but thank you, Mma, for your help there.”
    “The Swiss are always making clocks,” Mma Makutsi went on. “That is perhaps why they are so punctual. If there are many clocks, then …”
    “Thank you, Mma Makutsi,” said Mma Ramotswe firmly. “Perhaps you will be kind enough to make tea for all of us so that Mr. Molofololo will be able to drink tea while he speaks to me.” She emphasised the
me
, hoping that Mma Makutsi would take the proper inference; but she had her doubts.
    Mr. Leungo Molofololo turned back to address Mma Ramotswe. “I don't know if you know anything about me,” he said. “You may have seen my name in the papers.” He paused. “Have you?”
    “Not only have I seen your name there,” said Mma Ramotswe, “but I have also seen your photograph, Rra. Last week I saw you handing over a big cheque to the nurses' charity. That was very kind of you.”
    “They are good people,” said Mr. Molofololo. “And I admire the nursing profession. If I had been born a woman, Mma— which I am happy to say I was not—then I would have been a nurse, I think.”
    Mma Ramotswe glanced at Mma Makutsi, whose eyes flashed at this. She inclined her head slightly, a sign that she hoped would be understood by Mma Makutsi, a sign that said,
I shall handle this
.
    “You might have been quite happy to be born a woman, Rra,” she said politely.
    Mr. Molofololo's answer came quickly. “No, I would not. I would have been very sad.”
    Mma Ramotswe laughed. “I think that most people are happy with what they are. Men are happy to be born men, and women are happy to be born women. It is not better to be the one or the other, although I must say that I am very relieved indeed that I was not born a man.”
    Mr. Molofololo opened his mouth to say something, but Mma Ramotswe continued quickly, “And as for being a nurse, well, Rra, there are many other things that a woman can be these days. Everything, in fact. Would you not like to have been a doctor if you had been born a woman? Or a pilot with Air Botswana—how about that?”
    Mr. Molofololo was silent for a moment. Then, “You're quite right, Mma. My daughter is always saying to me,
Daddy, you must remember that the