He thought that all the stone buildings around the Mall were white. But no, some were a pale pinky beige granite that reflected light peculiarly. The National Gallery had it. He remembered being surprised how far IM Pei had taken the pinkness in the new angular wing he built for the Gallery. A blushing tone with sharp edges worn shiny from human touches swooping down from the top balcony to the underground passage linking the wing to the original building. The waning light from the day cooled off the space, reflecting blue off the tightly fitted squared stone wall to his right. If he blew hard enough he bet he could make the Calder move.