Anya can't say that she'd forgotten Dmitry hadn't been wearing a shirt, but through her efforts to not stare it had sort of faded into the background. When he puts one on, the awareness comes flooding back, warm on her cheeks. She's a little sorry that he's done that while at the same time being very grateful. Now she's a little less aware of him in that way,

"Perhaps," she says with a little shrug watching as Pushkin continues to nose around. The little dog looks back at Anya for a moment and she nods encouragingly. Taking that as a sign, Pushkin sits back on his haunches, paws up as he begs for Dmitry's attention. "That doesn't make it less true. Gleb found him or he found Gleb rather and then he came to be mine. See? He likes you."