 I don't really remember a single solitary thing before I was six years old and going to school in Rogers, Arkansas. Not Anthony George wearing tails and a sword? It was one of the pictures in the album. Not your mother putting you to bed in a hotel in St. Louis? Ten million dollars, Archie. So you're not Magda Crail? Well, of course I'm Magda Crail. Oh, I may have tried to make the story sound a little more convincing than I should have, but I'm Magda Crail just the same. How could I be anybody else? So far, I can't see why you shouldn't be anybody else.