Arthur lets out a long sigh as he leans forward and puts his face in his hands, feeling a fun mixture of embarrassment and frustration about this whole thing. He does believe it, it's just that he didn't want it to be true, but it's too ridiculous not to be. It's too convenient.

Once he's regained some ability to do anything other than hide his face in shame, he looks up at Eames, bewildered and upset. His voice is still low enough that no one's going to hear him, but anyone watching them must be terribly confused and curious. "Why did you let me talk to you like that? Why did you agree to come here? What was the point? You weren't actually going to..."

He gestures between them, and now he's actually thinking about what that would have been like if Eames had just gone through with wherever this night was headed and never told him. Arthur has to concede that that would be much worse, but he's not going to give Eames credit for that while the rest of this is so fucked up.