Sacred Haven of Debauchery

I will always remember an incident from my first grade: a Soviet psychologist, of balzac age, came to our class during a lesson. She stood by the door, waiting for the teacher to finish her point, took a pen out of her pocket, twirled it, put the tip in her mouth, and sucked out some ink, during which some of it spilled, and her tongue and lips turned blue. Then she put the pen away and wiped her face with a handkerchief.