Yes, the poor camera had met its end, there really was no further reason to continue lamenting it. Asha agreed with the woman’s words. He’d figure it out, he always did. But then her attention returned to him and he rather wished it back on the camera. There was no use making a fuse out of a cut. “Just a bit of glass in the hand. Nothing to worry about.” Asha assured her, although when he touched his palm he could feel the warm wet indication of blood. Perhaps it had bit deeper than he had originally thought. He reached into his pocket to find his handkerchief but it appeared to be gone. He probably hadn’t even thought to grab it to put in his vest pocket when he’d left his room this morning. “You wouldn’t happen to have a handkerchief would you miss? Seems I sound probably cover it, scratch or not.” His voice took the cheery tone of the nonchalant.