He was in no doubt about the answer. “Not if what you end up doing is the right thing.” He paused. “And I think I can say, Mma Ramotswe, that what you’re doing—and I suppose also what Mma Potokwane is doing—is exactly the right thing. And I am very proud of that.” She reached out to touch him on his forearm. “Thank you, Rra. It will be easier for me if I know you are with me.” “I am,” he reassured her. “You are a heroine, Mma. You are an eighty-four-horse-power, six-cylinder heroine—you really are.”
When men compare you to a car, it’s real love!
