Oh boy is he hungry, but that took a gnawing anxious little back seat some time ago. His hunger is at the level where he's tracking it, quantifying it, and measuring it positively against how hungry he used to be, reassured in a sick sort of way that it's less. He's capable of spiralling over it, but that isn't how it's going now. If he doesn't spiral over it, then the pits were a long, long time ago.

He doesn't want to let Arthur go without pushing out of the act and saying something.

"Listen, Arthur, I... get the drift there's somethin' going around again, and I... really shoulda said this up top: I don't... hold any of that against you. Only rattled me a bit, is all."

It's broadly, partially, ideally true. It's also directed with a touch of nervousness at the coat stand. There's a lot still to say, but he waits to see how the other reacts. It feels like showing Arthur his throat. He isn't sure if that's a rational thought or not.