Over the course of the conversation, Viola had laid waste to her own breakfast, as much as her waist (relatively unbound by fashionable standards, but still too tight to suit Viola) would permit. The subject of clothing and corsetry had been on Viola's mind since her arrival at the school and her understanding that she was likely to have to wear her corsets even more regularly than she had at the Ministry.
She regarded Galatea for a moment. Galatea seemed to be more common-sensical and serious than most of the professors. Viola wondered what the other woman's opinion on radical dress reform might be. A friendly smile broke out, like the sun coming from behind the clouds. "I should very much like that, Professor Merrythought." She folded her own napkin and set it to the side as a signal for the house-elves. The matter of clothing would wait until they were safely out of the hearing of their short-breathed colleagues, who could hardly keep up with them in the courtyard anyhow.