The beautiful soul never ceases to pose its own question, that of betrothal, but how many fiancees were abandoned or disappeared once the question found its right problem which then reacts upon it, corrects it and displaces it with all the difference of a thought (thus Proust's hero asking 'Will I marry Albertine?', but developing the question in the problem of the work of art to be undertaken, where the very question undergoes a radical metamorphosis).