I paused.
"That it is mine."
He knew then. His eyes opened wide and his hands clenched as he stepped back a pace, still gazing full at me; and his voice was deep as he answered—
"Then you—my God—you are Christabel?"
"Yes. I am Christabel von Dreschler—it is my father's name that has to be cleared."
He made a step toward me, stretching out his arms.
"No, not while that stain remains—if ever."
He stood, his arms still partly outstretched, and gazing at me in silence.
At that moment the pressure of a hand on the window was repeated, and the frame was shaken.
He turned to it again. "I must see what that means," he exclaimed.