This task is about reading the given passage and construct a question about the information present in the passage. Construct a question in such a way that (i) it is unambiguous, (ii) it is answerable from the passage, (iii) the answer is unique, (iv) its answer is a continous text span from the paragraph. Avoid creating questions that (i) can be answered correctly without actually understanding the paragraph and (ii) uses same words or phrases given in the passage 

My name is Sandra. Let me tell you the story of the best meal I ever had. 

I was sitting on the school bench outside Springfield Elementary School, waiting to pick up my granddaughter. She is a real cutie, and I am very proud of her grades. To pass the time, I played my triangle. In my youth, I was a triangle player in a large New York band, the Black Triangles. We all wore full black costumes every time we played. 

"What lovely triangle music! You make me think of a friend I had once upon a time." 

A strange lady, about my age, was standing next to me, talking! She was holding a trumpet. It turns out the strange lady was my old friend and Black Triangle trumpet player Matilda. We hadn't seen each other since New York. Matilda told me she wanted to keep in touch, but couldn't remember what I looked like! We found out that all we remembered were the black costumes we always wore! It turns out; Matilda was also there to pick someone up from school. 

"Well, Sandra, why don't you join me and my grandson for lunch? There is a lovely Thai place right down the road.' 

We went there with my granddaughter and her grandson, and had a delicious meal. Our grandchildren got married 15 years later.
What is the narrator's name?

CHAPTER VIII 

And these two, as I have told you, Were the friends of Hiawatha, Chibiabos, the musician, And the very strong man, Kwasind. --Hiawatha 

Torpenhow was paging the last sheets of some manuscript, while the Nilghai, who had come for chess and remained to talk tactics, was reading through the first part, commenting scornfully the while. 

"It's picturesque enough and it's sketchy," said he; "but as a serious consideration of affairs in Eastern Europe, it's not worth much." 

"It's off my hands at any rate. . . . Thirty-seven, thirty-eight, thirty-nine slips altogether, aren't there? That should make between eleven and twelve pages of valuable misinformation. Heigh-ho!" Torpenhow shuffled the writing together and hummed-- 

'Young lambs to sell, young lambs to sell, If I'd as much money as I could tell, I never would cry, Young lambs to sell!'" 

Dick entered, self-conscious and a little defiant, but in the best of tempers with all the world. 

"Back at last?" said Torpenhow. 

"More or less. What have you been doing?" 

"Work. Dickie, you behave as though the Bank of England were behind you. Here's Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday gone and you haven't done a line. It's scandalous." 

"The notions come and go, my children--they come and go like our 'baccy," he answered, filling his pipe. "Moreover," he stooped to thrust a spill into the grate, "Apollo does not always stretch his----Oh, confound your clumsy jests, Nilghai!" 

"This is not the place to preach the theory of direct inspiration," said the Nilghai, returning Torpenhow's large and workmanlike bellows to their nail on the wall. "We believe in cobblers" wax. La!--where you sit down." 
Who was paging?

CHAPTER XXVII. LEONARD DE CARTIENNE. 

We all three stood and looked at one another for a moment, Milly Hart with her finger still pointing to the vacant place where the photograph had been. Then Cecil broke into a short laugh. 

"We're looking very tragical about it," he said lightly. "Mysterious joint disappearance of Leonard de Cartienne and a photograph of Mr. Hart. Now, if it had been a photograph of a pretty girl instead of a middle-aged man, we might have connected the two. Hallo!" 

He broke off in his speech and turned round. Standing in the doorway, looking at us, was Leonard de Cartienne, with a slight smile on his thin lips. 

"Behold the missing link--I mean man!" exclaimed Cecil. "Good old Leonard! Do you know, you gave us quite a fright. We expected to find you here and the room was empty. Are you better?" 

"Yes, thanks! I'm all right now," he answered. "I've been out in the yard and had a blow. What's Milly looking so scared about? And what was it I heard you say about a photograph?" 

"Father's likeness has gone," she explained, turning round with tears in her eyes. "It was there on the mantelpiece this afternoon and now, when we came in to look at it, it has gone!" 

"I should think that, if it really has disappeared," de Cartienne remarked incredulously, "the servant must have moved it. Ask her." 

Miss Hart rang the bell and in the meantime we looked about the room. It was all in vain. We could find no trace of it, nor could the servant who answered the summons give us any information. She had seen it in its usual place early in the morning when she had been dusting. Since then she had not entered the room. 

Who started laughing?

