They keep telling us that if a chaotic butterfly in the Philippines flaps its wings the wrong way, everything changes. So what happens in the Park Jourdan in Aix-en-Provence on a sunny Indian-summer day if a Baskerville-ish hound eats two butterflies? I have never been able to walk past a dog without it looking at me because it knows I am a good player of dog games. Do certain butterflies also possess this quality, and then keep it when they, having being perfect butterflies, get promoted to being people (or dogs) in their next life? This game could be judged to be a mere lark for the dog, and a potential deadly encounter for the pair of papillons; in fact the dog was chasing them to entertain his young mistress, who was sitting melancholy nearby. Neither butterfly perished on this occasion, and the girl laughed.

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