Her belief in him is humbling and grounding at the same time. What has he done to earn such honor? She'd argue something about it, he knows, if he said anything out loud.

Whatever magic exists here, it seems it's not quite strong enough to overcome the power of friendship. Oh, that's overly soppy, Doctor. Going soft?

In his mind, he toils in facts, tangible things, what can be proven. Where had such a sentimental thought come from? Is it this place and the nature of it? The way he's been forcibly pulled closer and closer to people, despite his fear of such deep attachments? Thoughts for another day. He's good at putting off this particular type of deep-rooted contemplation.

"Believe you, Clara Oswald?" His eyes linger on hers, though, while he squeezes her hand. "You're persistent. Bossy, in fact. You won't let me think otherwise, will you?"

There's a bit of the Doctor she knows coming back, perhaps, a slight smile on his face.

"Tell me, then, is this the right place? I trust you."