Laurence had been out, to the compound and back in search of something to read. In the end, having to chose between it and more Chinese poetry, he wound up returning with a volume of Shakespeare. Granby was apparently asleep by the time he returned and Laurence sat on the porch instead, not wanting to wake him. It was quite pleasant, rain falling outside, a book to read, a piece of fruit to eat, and for a while Laurence was fairly content. Until he happened to notice Granby's sketchbook lying open.

At first, he had only meant to close it quickly to stop any stray drops of rain from damaging it, but as soon as it was in his hands he could not stop himself from turning first one page and then another. Before he knew it Laurence could not have stopped looking even if he wanted to.