These were scenes with dramatic elements and effects in them. But there were other scenes of the ordinary sort, so to speak, without the dramatic effects, scenes which were repeated regularly in the same form and in the very same expressions. These scenes always took place on the twentieth of the month, when Iván Mikhailovich received his salary, and the large number of small creditors had to be paid. Somehow there was never sufficient money to settle all the bills, and each time Iván Mikhailovich thought that the money ought to be enough to cover all expenses, and railed at the womenfolk who dreamed so much about the emancipation of women, while they did not even know how to regulate their own household. “Emancipation,” he grumbled, taking the money from his pocket-book and throwing it on the table. “But what has emancipation to do with this matter?” “They go and teach you the devil-knows-what--all kinds of geography, algebra, trigonometry, but you do not know how to make both ends meet--emancipation!” “And you should go a little less to the club, Iván Mikhailovich; then probably the income would cover the expenditures!” replied Maria Petrovna, bitingly. “And where, pray, can I get it for you? I am not coining money. I suppose you know I am not a counterfeiter?” And all three started to upbraid and reproach each other, and for a moment they became submerged in such trivialities and unpleasantness that they were afterward thoroughly ashamed of themselves. After every twentieth of the month there remained in the soul of Xenia Pavlovna a kind of soot, and this greasy soot dimmed her eyes, made her apathetic and slow, and it seemed as if she had all at once become old, ill-looking, and disheartened. This young and very charming woman looked at such times like a beautiful bouquet of flowers that had withered and been thrown out of the window. So they lived day after day, months and years, and when an acquaintance asked, “How are you getting along?” they invariably replied: “Very well, thank you!” It sometimes became necessary to refresh themselves after this kind of life--to depart, at least for a day, from the beaten track--and so Iván Mikhailovich went on a short spree two or three times a year. “One must overhaul himself thoroughly from time to time; it is not only useful, but also necessary,” he usually said on the next day after such an exploit.