Nuns at Luncheon — Aldous Huxley

"What have I been doing since you saw me last?" Miss Penny repeated my question in her loud, emphatic voice. "Well, when did you see me last?" "It must have been June," I computed. "Was that after I'd been proposed to by the Russian General? "Yes; I remember hearing about the Russian General." Miss Penny threw back her head and laughed. Her long ear-rings swung and rattled corpses hanging in chains: an agreeably literary simile. And her laughter was like brass, but that had been said before.