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Bridget, my ninteenth century heroine of THE CAD, was born in a twentieth century hospital.

I was waiting one day, whiling the hours away in a doctor's outer office, when I saw the receptionist clearly. She was young, very lovely, but also had a long scar above her lip. Two things struck me.

How the scar pointed up how beautiful she was.

And what confidence she displayed in not having had plastic surgery to remove it, considering the ease with which she could have had it done in the hospital.

A few months later when I saw the young woman again, her scar was gone. Because she was a 20th century woman.

But what would she have done a hundred years ago?

Bridget was born.

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