Unknown by Unknown

dismay, 'Can he hear me?'
    Larry's question went unanswered.
    Jo Howell put forth another. 'You still in charge of hiring at the plant?' Sarah detected a note of slyness in Jo's voice, though she had evidently tried to make it sound merely conversational, but Coppage seemed not to notice. He nodded abstractedly, for he was absorbed now in tiying to catch some movement in the figure on the bed. He could detect none. 'Terr'ble thing', he whispered. He turned then to Jo Howell (Sarah thought that he was about to cry), and in conciliatory deference, he said, 'Oh, Miz Howell, I look at him, and I could think it was almost my fault
    Jo said nothing, but Sarah knew what the woman was thinking just then.
    Larry continued, in the fullness of his heart, 'I just wish I could have done something for Dean so that he didn 't have to go off. But it wasn't up to me, because there wasn't no place for him in the plant, there wasn't no position. He could have got that job at the end of the line when old Mr Evers died if he hadn't have got drafted just when he did. Sometimes we can keep 'em out of the army, Miz Howell, but we can't get 'em out once they gone in. And I took on Sarah. I'd have done it, Miz Howell, you know that, I'd have given him a job, if there'd have been a job to give him. Dean was my friend.'' He stopped in some embarrassment, when he realised that he was talking about Dean as if he were dead.
    Sarah continued to stand in the corner of the darkened room, expressionless and silent, with her arms folded. But she was earnestly praying that Jo would say nothing to Larry Coppage, that she would not try to make him feel worse than he already did.
    Jo looked away from Larry, and seemed about to speak, but at last she shook her head briefly, and said nothing at all. It was apparent that Larry's excuses would not compensate for the loss of her son, and sharp words would not even help her for the moment.
    'Gotta go, Sarah', said Larry weakly.
    Sarah moved away towards the door into the living room, intending to accompany Dean's friend to the front door.
    'Larry Coppage, you come here', said Jo peremptorily.
    Surprised, Larry turned his face towards Jo, but did not advance.
    'I got something for your wife', said Jo. Her voice was hard-edged but civil, and it was evident to Sarah that Jo was making a great effort to be pleasant to the man.
    Larry and Sarah were both puzzled, and wondered what on earth Jo would have for Rachel Coppage.
    'What you got, Miz Howell? A recipe or something?'
    Jo unclasped her hands and slowly held up a gold chain. It was delicate, of small linkage, entirely fabricated of gold, and if it had a clasp in its length, it was so small and delicate that Sarah could not readily locate it. From this chain was heavily depended a simple, flat circular disc about three inches in diameter. Its centre was a circle of blackest jet, two inches across, bordered with the same gold of which the chain was fashioned, and there was finally a slightly wider border of jet outside that. The attractive combination of black and gold concentric circles constituted a stark, striking abstract design. Jo dangled the necklace before Larry and Sarah. Sarah glanced down at the figure of Dean briefly, because she thought she detected a heavier breathing than usual, but staring at his chest a moment, she could not be sure.
    When she looked up again, Jo was smiling and rocking her
    head slightly in the same rhythm as the swinging chain.
    'Where'd that come from?' Sarah asked involuntarily. She was sure that she had never seen it before.
    'It's for Rachel', said Jo quickly. That was not an answer to Sarah's question.
    'I can't take that for Rachel, Miz Howell', said Larry. 'Why you giving anything to Rachel, Miz Howell?'
    There was a slight pause before Jo answered. 'Dean said he wanted her to have it.' Sarah was sure that Jo was lying, and yet, since she could think of no other plausible explanation (not that this one was very likely), she had to