It had sounded in his ears at night as he sat on the wide stoop watching the moon and listening to the night-birds, or vaguely heard his mother babbling things he did not hear.
It is a memorable moment for a man when he hears for the first time his "little name," as the French call it, spoken by the woman he loves.

It is as the sound of a bell in the distance, a familiar note with a new meaning, revealing new things of life in the panorama of the mind.

By those two words Orlando knew what was in the mind of Louise.

They were a prayer for protection and a cry for comradeship.
When Louise first clasped hands with the Young Doctor on her arrival at Askatoon, the soft appeal of her fingers had made him understand that loneliness where she lived, and to bear which she sought help.

But the "Oh, Orlando!" which was wrung from her, almost unknowingly, was the cry of one who, to loneliness, had added fear and tragedy.