He finally lifts his face out of his hands to respond to the question, because he can't keep speaking muffled sentences that're almost impossible to understand and hope to have a halfway decent conversation about this. "I saw him go into her office and I saw them talking, and then I saw them looking at me. I can put two and two together. She didn't say anything. There's a good chance that she doesn't even... I don't think she'd care. And I'm not just saying that because I'm trying to make you feel better because I don't think anything's going to make either of us feel better and if you want to never see me again I get it because I know that this is really, really bad."

Right now, that's all he's worried about. Selfish, maybe, but he's worried about Ned deciding that he's a horrible person -- and, obviously, a bad liar, when it comes right down to it, unable to even convince Bob that he'd been mistaken. He'd obviously talked about Ned too much around the office, obviously been too pleased and happy to really control how overjoyed he'd been about the whole thing, and now it had backfired spectacularly, and this had happened.

Maybe it was only a matter of time.