John Milton explains how angels bodily functions work. I'm sure it's the same for women.
So down they sat,
And to their viands fell, nor seemingly
The Angel, nor in mist, the common gloss
Of Theologians, but with keen dispatch
Of real hunger, and concoctive heat
To transubstantiate; what redounds, transpires
Through Spirits with ease; nor wonder; if by fire
Of sooty coal the Empiric Alchimist
Can turn, or holds it possible to turn
Metals of drossiest Ore to perfect gold
As from the mine.
Since woman don't sweat but instead glow, I guess they don't fart, but instead pass gas.
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