JO: I only left you because I got married. Did you think I was stupid?

DOCTOR: Why do you say that?

JO: I was a bit dumb. Still am, I suppose.

DOCTOR: Now what in the world would make you think that, ever, ever, ever?

JO: We'd been travelling down the Amazon for months, and we reached a village in Cristalino, and it was the only place in thousands of miles that had a telephone, so I called you. I just wanted to say hello. And they told me that you'd left, left UNIT, never came back. So I waited and waited, because you said you'd see me again. You did, I asked you and you said yes. You promised. So I thought, one day, I'd hear that sound, Deep in the jungle, I'd hear that funny wheezing noise, and a big blue box right in the middle of the rainforest. You see, he wouldn't just leave. Not forever. Not me. I've waited my whole silly life.

DOCTOR: But you're an idiot.

JO: Well, there we have it.

DOCTOR: No, but don't you see? How could I ever find you? You've spent the past forty years living in huts, climbing up trees, tearing down barricades. You've done everything from flying kites on Kilimanjaro to sailing down the Yangtze in a tea chest. Not even the TARDIS could pin you down.

JO: Hold on. I did sail down the Yangtze in a tea chest. How did you know?

DOCTOR: And that family. All seven kids, twelve grandchildren, thirteenth on his way. He's dyslexic but that'll be fine. Great swimmer.

JO: So you've been watching me all this time?

DOCTOR: No. Because you're right, I don't look back. I can't. But the last time I was dying, I looked back on all of you. Every single one. And I was so proud.

JO: It really is you, isn't it?

DOCTOR: Hello.