Turquoise it is. The Fool drapes the elegant garment around himself and then goes to pin up his hair. "I have a few ideas, to that end," he replies lightly. "Give me some time; I will be over as quickly as I can."

Hopefully the tailor is content to wait for the duration of time it takes the Fool to hail a cab and zip across town; it doesn't take as long as it could have, but there is still traffic to contend with, as well as an inconvenient number of uncooperative stop signals. When he arrives, the Fool nonetheless tips the driver well, then hurries into the shop and looks about for X. He's fairly easy to spot.

"Hello," he says to his friend with an affable smile, an expression that doesn't dim in the least when he looks to the tailor. He has his wallet in hand. "Would you mind telling me the cost of the coat?"