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Rh the purpose of my visit has been wholly misunderstood.’ And sighing heavily he turned to go, saying as he did so: ‘This is the way one is treated when one begins to grow old. … It is useless, I know, after what has passed, even to suggest that her Highness should come to the window for a moment to see me start…” and with that he left the house, watched by a bevy of ladies who made all the usual comments and appraisements. Not only was it delightful weather, but at this moment the wind was making a most agreeable music in the neighbouring trees, and these ladies soon fell to talking of the old days when Prince Momozono was alive; particularly of Genji’s visits long ago and the many signs he had given of a deep and unaltering attachment to their mistress.

After his return from this unsuccessful expedition, Genji felt in no mood for sleep, and soon he jumped up and threw open his casement. The morning mist lay thick over the garden of flowers, which, at the season’s close, looked very battered and wan. Among them, its blossoms shimmering vaguely, was here and there a Morning Glory, growing mixed in among the other flowers. Choosing one that was even more wilted and autumnal than the rest, he sent it to the Momozono palace, with the note: ‘The poor reception which you gave me last night has left a most humiliating and painful impression upon me. Indeed, I can only imagine it was with feelings of relief that you so soon saw my back turned upon your house, though I am loth to think that things can even now have come to such a pass: “Can it be that the Morning Glory, once seen by me and ever since remembered in its beauty, is now a dry and withered flower?” Does it count with you for nothing that I have admired you unrequited, year in year out, for so great a stretch of time? That at least might be put to my