Because maybe it changed in the last 10 minutes?

Two little girls colour at the dining room table. One pauses and looks at the other.

“Grace? What is your name, Grace?”

The second little girl pauses to give the question due consideration, then answers.

“Grace.”

“Oh. Your name is Grace?” This said in tones of so-polite enquiry. Just checking that she heard it right.

“Yes. And your name is Jazz?” An equally polite question, its inflection oh-so-genteel.

“Yes, I am Jazz.”

“Yes.”

And they continue colouring, both under the apparent impression this was a perfectly rational exchange. Between, I note, two elderly Edwardian ladies. All that was missing was tea and crumpets and white lace gloves…