"No," his reply was immediate, and had a certain level of petulance to it. He'd been waiting for this. For smug Marian. For the 'I told you so' that she no doubt had decided he deserved. But the truth was, he wasn't worrying about anything but his arm, now. It was all he could think about. And he knew he wouldn't stop worrying until he could see it himself.
"Don't get angry at me Marian." He might have been pleading, just a bit. "Not now. I couldn't even see it. It's not my fault when I couldn't even see it."