To devote himself to it with better heart, he paused in his conversation.
From his seat by Mrs.Septimus Small Soames was watching.

He had a reason of his own connected with a pet building scheme, for observing Bosinney.

The architect might do for his purpose; he looked clever, as he sat leaning back in his chair, moodily making little ramparts with bread-crumbs.

Soames noted his dress clothes to be well cut, but too small, as though made many years ago.
He saw him turn to Irene and say something and her face sparkle as he often saw it sparkle at other people--never at himself.

He tried to catch what they were saying, but Aunt Juley was speaking.
Hadn't that always seemed very extraordinary to Soames?
Only last Sunday dear Mr.Scole, had been so witty in his sermon, so sarcastic, "For what," he had said, "shall it profit a man if he gain his own soul, but lose all his property ?" That, he had said, was the motto of the middle-class; now, what had he meant by that?
Of course, it might be what middle-class people believed--she didn't know; what did Soames think?
He answered abstractedly: "How should I know?
Scoles is a humbug, though, isn't he ?" For Bosinney was looking round the table, as if pointing out the peculiarities of the guests, and Soames wondered what he was saying.