His sentences were short and to the point and he spoke and acted like one accustomed to having his own way.

He crossed his knees and looked about the little building.
"It is a pleasant day," I observed, for the sake of saying something.
He did not seem to hear me, or, if he did, he was not interested in the weather.

For my part I found the situation embarrassing.

I knew what his next question would be, and I did not know how to answer.

Sure enough, he asked it.
"I wrote you to come over to my place this forenoon," he said.