I am prompted by comments on my blog about Anthony Bryer to say slightly more about the Christmas we spent with him in the Fellow’s apartment at Dumbarton Oaks. We were the only people there and so had the run of the house, library and garden. He had assumed that Romilly, who was with me, was a man because the well known Byzantinist Romilly Jenkins was male and was pleasantly surprised to discover otherwise. We had what my family would describe as a very Bryer-ish time (this was to capture the element of the zany), attending midnight mass at a church on Massachusetts Avenue and then taking a shortcut back across the grounds of the British Embassy and, on Boxing Day, having a drink in a bar on Wisconsin Avenue where Bryer was totally oblivious to the fact that it was striptease joint. He then shipped us off to friends of his in Virginia who had a private aerodrome.