--->

After making sure that Anya was asleep, Dimitri crept quietly back to his bunk. He paused. Lying in a heap before the trash can were Anya's rags. For some inexplicable reason, Dimitri swooped up the old dress, stuffing it into his bag. He told himself that he merely didn't want to waste things; that who knows if Anya might need it later on. But even that reason sounded false to his mind's ear. Dimitri sighed and went to sleep.

Following the ballet, Dimitri left Sophie's and checked into a hotel. As he was unpacking his things, Dimitri caught sight of something brown. Frowning, he yanked at the cloth. Anya's orphan rags, he thought to himself sadly. He sighed, pressing the material to his cheek, relishing the fact that it still smelled like Anya, like violets.

Suddenly, without warning, Dimitri's eyes filled with tears. It wasn't so much that he and Anya couldn't be together-though that hurt dreadfully. But the sharpest, most agonizing pain came from the fact that she hated him. And that she had every right to.

He sat down on the bed, clutching the dress to his heart. How could he have done such a horrid thing to Anya-to anyone, for that matter? Sure, Anya WAS really Anastasia. But suppose she wasn't. He would've hurt Marie terribly as well as Anya. And if he hadn't have chosen Anya to play Anastasia, then he would've hurt some other girl.

And it was all for money. Dimitri sighed. Money. Once such a precious, seductive word. But now it meant nothing to him if he had to hurt and betray people to get it. There were plenty of honest ways to make a living.

Tears streaming down his cheeks, Dimitri thought about how he would feel if some person came to him, pretending to be a member of his long lost family, only to get money. He knew that if someone had done that to him, Dimitri would've taken great pleasure in beating them to a bloody pulp. So why had he done it?

But worst of all, he'd hurt someone whom he deeply loved, more than his own life. Dimitri quickly undressed, turned out the lamp, and crawled into bed. Hugging Anya's dress to his chest like a little boy with a teddy bear, he cried himself to sleep.

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