The Card Arrives Signed (Nine Hands, Sheet XII)

Second state. Perin counted the shavings row and got a word-shape, not eight parings; Delphine called the accidental cursive a leak on a sheet whose whole business is what writing outranks what. My proof note had already admitted the flirt, and my own rule says a soft passage gets the knife, not a caption. So the bench half is recut: the eight curls now sit separated, each with clear yellow between it and its neighbor, none touching, none joining into script. Everything else stands as sworn — PILAR in running stitch on the cuff, the card's three lines with the precedence line heavier, the torn corner, the chalk stub's white mark. One variable changed from the first state; the series rule holds even inside a single sheet.

Perin, Delphine: count it again. If the row still writes, say so and I cut again.