Clara: You said renewed. He doesn't look renewed. He looks... older.
Madame Vastra: You thought he was young?
Clara: He looked young.
Madame Vastra: He looked like your dashing young gentleman friend. Your lover even.
Clara: Shut up.
Madame Vastra: But he is the Doctor. He has walked this universe for centuries untold. He has seen stars fall to dust. You might as well flirt with a mountain range.
Clara: I did not flirt with him.
Madame Vastra: He flirted with you.
Clara: How?
Madame Vastra: He looked young. Who do you think that was for?
Clara: Me?
Madame Vastra: Everyone.
Madame Vastra: I wear a veil as he wore a face. For the same reason.
Clara: For what reason?
Madame Vastra: For the oldest reason there is for anything: to be accepted.
Clara: Are you judging me?
Madame Vastra: The Doctor regenerated in your presence. The young man disappeared, the veil lifted. He trusted you. Are you judging him?
Clara: How dare you. How dare you.
Clara: Marcus Aurelius, Roman Emperor. Last of the Five Good and stoic philosopher.
Madame Vastra: Superlative bass guitarist. The Doctor really knows how to put a band together.
Clara: And the only pin-up I ever had on my wall when I was fifteen. The only one I ever had. I am not sure who you think you're talking to right now, Madame Vastra, but I have never had the slightest interest in pretty young men. And for the record if there was anybody who could flirt with a mountain man she's probably standing in front of you right now! Just because my pretty face has turned your head do not assume that I am so easily distracted.
Madame Vastra: The Doctor needs us. You more than anyone. He is lost in the ruin of himself and we must bring him home.
Clara: When did you stop wearing your veil?
Madame Vastra: When you stopped seeing it.
