He heard them laugh, and thought to himself: "Well, they get on all right, anyway!" As he expected, Bosinney had come round to fetch him to look at the plans.
He took his hat and went over.
The plans were spread on the oak table in the architect's room; and pale, imperturbable, inquiring, Soames bent over them for a long time without speaking.
He said at last in a puzzled voice: "It's an odd sort of house!" A rectangular house of two stories was designed in a quadrangle round a covered-in court.

This court, encircled by a gallery on the upper floor, was roofed with a glass roof, supported by eight columns running up from the ground.
It was indeed, to Forsyte eyes, an odd house.
"There's a lot of room cut to waste," pursued Soames.
Bosinney began to walk about, and Soames did not like the expression on his face.
"The principle of this house," said the architect, "was that you should have room to breathe--like a gentleman!" Soames extended his finger and thumb, as if measuring the extent of the distinction he should acquire; and replied: "Oh! yes; I see." The peculiar look came into Bosinney's face which marked all his enthusiasms.
"I've tried to plan you a house here with some self-respect of its own.
If you don't like it, you'd better say so.

It's certainly the last thing to be considered--who wants self-respect in a house, when you can squeeze in an extra lavatory ?" He put his finger suddenly down on the left division of the centre oblong: "You can swing a cat here.

This is for your pictures, divided from this court by curtains; draw them back and you'll have a space of fifty-one by twenty-three six.

This double-faced stove in the centre, here, looks one way towards the court, one way towards the picture room; this end wall is all window; You've a southeast light from that, a north light from the court.