It's just soldered, that's all. There is much still to be done. And at last, I am allowed to Do Something: the cementing, which entails the liberal application of smelly goo with an old toothbrush, forcing it into every gap in the lead, then dusting it with a chalky powder to absorb the excess oil, scraping the glass clean, and allowing the cement to set. A bit like an old-fashioned skincare regime, really, apart from the old toothbrush bit. After that, there will be blackleading and a final clean up, before the panel is installed above the front door with no one allowed to enter the house before bowing to it in reverential homage.
I'm only permitted to do this (filthy) job because the artist-slave has gone away for the night, and wants to cement the other side of the panel herself tomorrow. I am not allowed to turn it over. I feel privileged, though; this is her baby, and I've been allowed to babysit it and wash its face, but nothing more. I will comply.