"That's what I've been hoping for - that your mind is too strong, that Nardole's found you by now. Anything," her face reflected her concern, her worry, her fear. But there was also a hint of relief there. He wasn't yelling. She didn't feel the need. Yet. And he wasn't asking an infinite number of questions just yet - except the one that followed.
She paused for a moment, then sipped from her glass, coughing slightly after - whiskey really wasn't her drink. "Saxon's really been quite helpful with the Monk situation. He's creepy and I don't trust him as far as I can throw him but he knew what I was talking about in a blink."