‘Excuse me,’ he said to him, ‘what is your name by the way?’ ‘My name?’ said the old man, and the same distant sadness came into his face again. He paused. ‘My name,’ he said, ‘…is Slartibartfast.’ Arthur practically choked. ‘I beg your pardon?’ he spluttered. ‘Slartibartfast,’ repeated the old man quietly. ‘Slartibartfast?’ The old man looked at him gravely. ‘I said it wasn’t important,’ he said.
