"Considering the various dimensions, yes I am an H.G. Wells, though I am the H.G. Wells in the dimension I am from. I may be nearly one hundred and fifty years old, but I certainly am not a Time Lord. I am perfectly human." Helena did mean she was actually that old. Physically she didn't look her age, but she had lived each and every one of her years. She had simply just been a conscious statue for one hundred and ten of those years. That experience had been torture, plain and simple, and had broken her mind multiple times over. Still, she'd managed to pull herself back together as best as she could. The cracks were still there, the anger she carried from the experience still simmered under the surface, but she pushed it aside. She never spoke of that experience because how could one describe the feeling of being conscious for over a century and being unable to do anything but replay the memory of one's daughter's murder over and over again without interruption? It went beyond description, really.

"She was, yes. She was happy. I think she missed you a bit, but she had made quite a few friends, even had a boyfriend. Though she was returned back to where she had come from before I was brought here. So I would assume she returned to her adventures with you." Though Helena hadn't actually been clear on what point in time Sarah Jane had been from. Still, she'd assume whenever she went back to, she was most likely having adventures.