"No. I don't think so, but you feel -- do you know who I am?"

Ah, that is a look that the Fool recognizes--perhaps not from X as a grown man, but from himself. He smiles, his own amusement and delight at this peculiar experience transparent in his features, and rests his chin in his palm. "I do," he tells him with a clear glitter in his eyes. "You may not know it yet, but you and I are good friends here," an artless gesture about them, "in this place. I am called the Fool," he explains, "and I call you X."