Even though the lady felt he was utterly heartless, she was moved to reply:
sigure ni soFite
momidi no iro mo
|Ever my tears
Fall with the showers;
At my ancient home,
The lustre of the Autumn leaves
Is deepest of all.
and attaching it to a branch of privet, sent it to him. This must have been around the Ninth Month. The man read the poem and thought it extraordinarily moving.