In the nineteenth year of the revolution, Stalin decided to conduct a "purge" in Leningrad. He devised what he thought was a clever method, the exchange of passports. As a result, many people, mostly nobles, were denied the issuance of passports. These nobles had long since become conscientious Soviet officials with simple pigskin briefcases.

Following the passport denial, immediate exile followed: either towards the tundra or to the hot sands of Karakum.

Leningrad was in tears.

Not long before this, Shostakovich had received a new apartment, which was three times larger than his previous one on Marata Street. The apartment was not meant to remain empty.

Shostakovich gathered some money, handed it to Sofia Vasilievna, and asked: "Please, buy something for the furniture, mom."

He left for Moscow on business for two weeks. When he returned, he was astonished: the rooms were filled with Pavlov and Alexandrov chairs made of mahogany, tables, a wardrobe, and a bureau. "And all this, mom, you bought with the money I left?" he asked. "The furniture has dropped significantly in price," replied Sofia Vasilievna. "Why?" "The nobles were exiled, and they were hastily giving away their belongings for almost nothing. For example, this bureau used to cost..."

Sofia Vasilievna began to recount how much each item used to cost and how much she paid for them now.

Dmitri Dmitrievich turned pale, his lips tightened. "My God!" he exclaimed.

He quickly pulled out a notebook from his pocket and took a pencil from the table. "How much did these chairs cost before the misfortune, mom? And how much did you pay now? Where did you buy them? And this bureau? And the sofa?" he asked.

Sofia Vasilievna answered accurately, not quite understanding why he was asking.

Writing everything down in his sharp, thin handwriting, Dmitri Dmitrievich nervously tore the page from the notebook and handed it to his mother.