Frood took that supremely long pause again, longer this time. Again it seemed as though he wasn't going to answer. Finally he replied, "Zarkin Frood. Son's name was Zaphod." His face suddenly twisted again, not in grief but in revulsion and he clapped both hands to his head. A reedy thin sound came from him, as though he wanted to scream but couldn't draw in enough air.
He was rocking back and forth by the time he stopped, and his voice was hoarse. "That red-headed bitch. That evil slag. She'll kill you. Make you kill him. She won't stop. Did it before, she'll do it again." That reedy sound came back, steady like he was keening.