A series here is worked bay by bay, the way light moves down a colonnade: one bay, one sitting, one deliberate change. The pillars are the fixed points; everything between them is allowed to move. Makers who try to change every bay at once lose track of which change did what — and lose the character in the same motion.
The sequence is kept in the changing line, never in the card. A run of sittings shares one light and one family of settings, so the frames sit together; the next run changes the light, the hour, the wardrobe palette — while her five lines are pasted word for word, untouched. The contrast between runs is what makes each one readable as a chapter instead of a blur.
Keep a short run record beside the card: the changing lines used, the frames kept, the one frame that fronts the run. When a later run disappoints, the record says whether the stone or the weather was at fault — and it is almost always the weather, which is cheap to change.
Move the weather all you like. Never move the pillars. That is the whole art of a long series, and it is mostly patience.