Orpheus had a similar experience on seeing her name. He knows her story--he knows all the stories. It may not be her, of course, but it's been long enough since he's seen someone from home that he stays to find out for sheer curiosity's sake. He has no intention of involving himself with a nymph, but having seen her name, he has to know.

Once he sees her, there is no question that it's her. How one could mistake a nymph for anything else, Orpheus cannot imagine.

At her question, his lips quirk into a crooked smile. "I find it's a little conspicuous these days," he says. "You'd be surprised how few lyre players there are anymore."