She nods, imagination spinning out to imagine the centuries he doesn't mention. Her eyes widen and panic butterflies in her stomach when he tells her how long he's been here. There are very few reasons he'd turn domestic. When she speaks she tries not to let any panic seep into her voice.

"Are you--that's about the time he left." She doesn't want to imagine, doesn't want to say the words because of what she's afraid they mean but she has to. "The TARDIS is--" and she doesn't finish the sentence, letting him fill in the blank with whatever he will.