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An armillary sphere: the equator and the zodiac band turning on one axis, held in a single graduated brass meridian.

Pieces come from anywhere and go anywhere; the meridian is the one fixed, graduated line every ring is measured against — as every listing is against the check.

A milled bezel round a globe; one engraved meridian runs through three points — seller, hub, buyer — across the world.

International by nature: the item's journey from seller to hub to buyer drawn on a globe, framed by a milled bezel.

An engine-turned dial — the rosette a guillocheur cuts by hand — with a tick cut through the pattern.

Engine-turning is the hand finish of fine dials; the tick cut through it says the finish was checked, and the small drawing keeps just the ring and the tick.

An emerald-cut stone seen from above, its steps engraved in hairlines; the table facet carries the tick.

Jewellery beside the watches, and a cut that is all precision; the tick sits where a stone is read — its table.

Two Breguet hands — slender shafts, hollow “pomme” tips — meeting at the pivot as a tick, inside a minute track.

The most recognised hand in watchmaking, bent into the product's promise; a free tick with a pomme that survives at 16 px.

The assay shield redrawn as a jeweller would engrave it: a cut border, a guilloché field, the tick raised from it.

The hallmark at full craft: the same shield as the plain one, so it scales down to it without changing its idea.

A signet ring seen from the front: the band with an engraved line, the flat face cut with a border and a tick.

A signet sealed a document as genuine long before certificates; a piece of jewellery that is itself a mark of authenticity.

A balance spring in a beaded, engraved medallion — the coil from its collet to the stud that pins it, the part a watch breathes by.

The hairspring is the finest part of a watch and the hardest to fake well; a medallion built round it says the house knows a watch down to the coil.

A ruby jewel set in its screwed gold chaton, framed by a fluted ring — the bearing a balance turns in, and a gem in its setting.

One emblem that is both watchmaking and fine jewellery: the jewel a movement is counted by, held the way a jeweller sets a stone — precise, small, true.

The two gongs of a minute repeater coiled inside a cushion case, fixed at one heel, around a tick — a watch that rings true.

A repeater proves itself by ear; gongs wound round a tick turn “it rings true” into the sign of a marketplace whose every piece is checked.

A keyhole escutcheon: an engraved plate, its field turned in hobnail, a maker’s lozenge below and a tick at its heart.

The escutcheon guards what is inside: a lock you trust and an engraved plate — the check is the key that opens every listing to a buyer.

A hunter pocket watch read as a crest: the ring and knurled pendant above, the lid engraved in a sunburst round a small shield bearing a tick.

Owners once engraved their arms on a hunter’s lid; here the shield carries the check instead — the piece changes hands, its proof stays engraved on it.

The small stamped shield an assay office strikes into gold that passed its test — here struck with a tick.

A watch case and its crown, the hands set at ten past ten as every watch is shown — and drawn as a tick.

The watchmaker’s loupe the hub specialist puts to the eye: a lens in its barrel, seen at an angle.

A brass seal with a milled, engraved edge — the impression that closes a certificate.

One thread through three points — seller, hub, buyer: the item’s journey, never out of sight.

A dial with only its seconds hand: the hand that keeps a watch going, and a watch with a second owner.