They are covered in dirt, hair, and possibly your blood. Or whoever's blood was on you. By your own rule, I must get rid of them regardless, so take them.

[She's telling off the son of Dracula again. Okay. This is fine. That's fine.]

Take them, and go. Now.

[She starts cramming the "keep" pile back into her bag, making haste to get it all done as rapidly as possible.]

I will check on you at midmorning. ...I promise.