[He looks down at his hands again, but there is no sign of blood, no sign of a scrape. Not even a touch of redness. He thinks of how he fell, and he wonders if he was hurt somewhere he couldn't see. But he sure isn't going to tell a lady, 'idk, maybe I scraped my butt.'] You may be right. Perhaps I bled where I didn't notice. [He meets her eyes to reassure her.] But as I didn't notice, it can't be so great a harm for you to trouble yourself over.