Mary always used to give me non-fiction books for birthday presents: books about Greek mythology, or music, or famous scientists. As a child I saw her as very much a non-fiction person: straightforward, clear, strong-minded, and able to speak in complete paragraphs. As an adult I learned of Mary’s interest in art. When Mary discovered that Amy was an art historian, she took us on a gallery tour of some of her favorite Australian artists. I hope this visual dimension to her intellect sustained her as her power of speech waned. Amy remarked to me when she heard of Mary’s death that she hoped the Rupert Bunny would go to a museum. That’s the painting whose corner shows in this photo.