"Of course not," said Mma Makutsi. "There is nothing to be ashamed of in drinking one hundred cups of tea a week, Mma. Which is ..." She paused again. "More than five thousand cups of tea a year, Mma. That is very impressive." "Well, there you are, Mma Makutsi. Those are the figures. You cannot argue with figures, can you?" Mma Makutsi looked thoughtful. "And ours is just a small business. We use all that red bush tea for you and all that ordinary tea for me, and we are just a tiny business. Imagine how much tea the Standard Bank drinks. Imagine all their tea, Mma. Just think of it. Or the Government. All those government people in their offices drinking tea." "It is a miracle that there is any tea left for us, Mma," said Mma Ramotswe. "After the Government and the banks and people like that have taken all the tea they need, it is a miracle that there is any tea left for people like you and me, Mma, the tea-drinking public." "You're right, Mma Ramotswe. It is a miracle. The miracle of the tea." "A good miracle, Mma Makutsi." "A very good miracle, Mma Ramotswe."