Ophelia had been referring to the physical harms that could befall a woman from too many masculine activities, not... whatever Miss Nott was referring to. It was clear she didn't read Witch Weekly; their pages were bombarded with stories about women who couldn't conceive a child because they'd been out on broomsticks too often, or miscarried because they rode a horse over a bumpy road when pregnant. Everyone knew that, but Ophelia wasn't going to trot out the examples at a moment like this (and thereby admit that she read the often ill-reputed magazine they had been found in). Suffice it to say that Ophelia suspected — no, rather, she knew — that men did not appreciate the challenge, as Miss Nott put it, of having difficulty conceiving.

Perversely, reflecting on her own difficulties performing as a wife gave her a sense of satisfaction in her dealings with Miss Nott. Opheila, after all, had experience in an area where the other woman had none (or at least, ought to have none). You'll understand later, she found herself thinking, with a good deal of derision. A somewhat patronizing look came over her face as she responded. "I have very little care for what most men prefer; I need only take into account the preferences of one," she pointed out. "Perhaps once you're married, Miss Nott, you'll have a different perspective."