What the chair had been holding
The grooves matched a thin board in the box of workshop scraps. Set across the seat, it made a slightly sloping support. The painter’s son remembered carrying freshly painted samples there as a child. His father wanted to see how colors changed in the troublesome afternoon light before committing to a customer’s large sign.
The pale wall rectangle had been a reference panel, repainted often enough to age differently from the surrounding surface. The notebook dates recorded comparisons. The instruction under the seat kept helpers from tidying away the improvised stand during the part of the day when it was useful. An ordinary chair had doubled as a small testing station.
There was still one practical problem. The reflected stripe no longer followed exactly the route described in the old notebook, because the building opposite had acquired new windows. Imogen decided against arranging a daily demonstration that might promise an effect the weather or season would not deliver. She photographed the light they had actually observed and dated the image.
For the reopening, the chair stayed beside the window with the sample board resting across it. Its label explained the discovery without inventing a lonely visitor. The painter’s son brought three unfinished color cards for people to compare in different parts of the room. A seat that had seemed reserved for someone absent became an invitation to notice what was present.