"Contaminated," he repeats, looking dubiously between the glass and gloves-- and then between the glass and the man's hand. Uncertain as he is about how well the gloves will actually protect him, he is certain that skin does an even worse job of it, as fragile as he's learned it to be. Yagen had probably warned them at some point about the various dangers of open wounds, or at least he feels like he's heard about that somewhere.

So he ignores the broken glass on the floor for now, ignores the apparent presence of ghosts or something similar and holds one of those gloves right back out to him. "At least keep one of these on, if you insist on touching it anyway. You won't be much help if you make yourself ill."