One of the few pleasures of psychotherapy is that, encountering women on a weekly basis, four times a month, one can thereby begin tracing their menstrual cycles. Of course, evolution does it damnest to hide the signs from men, but the evidence of ovulation, the estrus of desire, is plain for any discerning eye. And so it was, picking a crumb of toast off my latest copy of Evolution and Human Behaviour, I was disgusted to half read an article on the subject by a team of researchers articulating what any teenage girl could have told them. Oh, why don't we just ask, eh? What are we scared of, Professor? With such thoughts, I entered my room and decided to check my log book. I expected client R. to arrive in the calming, centred time following her period but was surprised and delighted to find was she clearly in the bloom of ovulation. Plainly, I had been negligent with my arithmetic. As client R. seated herself, I turned toward my desk, enabling me to glance the length of her thigh, and proceeded to amend my records.