A tremor runs across Arthur's shoulders as he tries not to react.

"I know what you're like, John. And I... I made a choice- to trust you, with that. Knowing you, knowing that you're- t-that when I hand you a knife, there's every possibility it will end up in my own back." He gestures idly with his cigarette. "It's something I've had to just- a-accept. So we can work."