Routilov babbled on incessantly; told all sorts of tales and anecdotes, some of an exceedingly indelicate character. In order to annoy Peredonov, Routilov began to tell him that his older pupils were behaving very badly, especially those who lived in apartments: they smoked, drank vodka and ran after girls. Peredonov believed him, and Grushina confirmed what Routilov said. These stories gave her especial pleasure: she herself, after her husband's death, had wanted to board three or four of the students at her house, but the Head-Master would not give her the requisite permission, in spite of Peredonov's recommendations--Grushina's reputation in the town was not very good. She now began to abuse the landladies of the houses where the students had apartments. "They're bribing the Head-Master," she declared. "All the landladies are carrion!" said Volodin with conviction; "take mine, for instance. When I took my room, mine agreed to give me three glasses of milk every evening. For the first two months I got it." "And you didn't get drunk?" asked Routilov. "Why should I get drunk?" said Volodin in offended tones, "milk's a useful product. It's my habit to drink three glasses of milk every night. When all of a sudden I see that they bring me only two glasses. 'What's the meaning of this?' I ask; the servant says: 'Anna Mikhailovna says she begs your pardon because the cow, she says, doesn't give much milk now.' What's that to do with me? An agreement is more sacred than money. Suppose their cow gave no milk at all--does that mean I'm not to have any milk? 'No,' I say. 'If there is no milk, then tell Anna Mikhailovna to give me a glass of water. I'm used to three glasses and I must have them.'" "Our Pavloushka's a hero," said Peredonov. "Tell them how you argued with the General, old chap." Volodin eagerly repeated his story. But this time they laughed at his expense. He stuck out an offended underlip. After supper they all got drunk, even the women. Volodin proposed that they should dirty the walls some more. They were delighted: almost before they had finished supper they acted on this suggestion and amused themselves prodigiously. They spat on the wall-paper, poured beer on it, and they threw at the walls and ceiling paper arrows whose ends were smeared with butter, and they flipped pieces of moist bread at the ceiling. Afterwards they invented a new game which they played for money; they tore off strips of the wall-paper to see who could get the largest. But at this game the Prepolovenskys won another rouble and a half. Volodin lost. Because of his loss and his intoxication he became depressed and began to complain about his mother. He made a dolorous face, and gesticulating ridiculously with his hand, said: