He turned when I entered.

I suppose I must have had a most woebegone appearance, for a look of regret crossed his face.
"My dear fellow," he cried, "my most humble apologies! I intended to have you released last night.

But, believe me, I have been frightfully busy." I said nothing.

What could I say?
The fact that he had been busy struck me as an extremely silly excuse.

But the inference that my escape from the toils of the law was imminent set my heart to thumping.
"I fear you can never forgive me for throwing you over as I did yesterday," he went on.