So he walked back up the street, for there was a bright light coming out of the door of the bank, which looked cheerful, and besides he remembered that he had been sent to ask his Uncle Popacatapetl to tea, so that probably there would be tea ready. ‘It must be time for tea,’ he thought, ‘because it has been dark quite a long time, and I haven’t had it yet. Tea always comes soon after dark even on the shortest days.’ By the bank door were standing the two airmen, whose machines he had unbuttoned. They had got their caps on the side of their heads all right, but they didn’t look quite like ordinary airmen. The nose of one had grown enormously since David saw him last, and he waved it about, turning up the end of it in a manner that reminded David not of an airman at all, but of some quite different sort of creature. The other had a large kind face, and kept moving his mouth round and round, and out of his hair there distinctly stuck two horns, both broken. As soon as they saw David they ran inside the bank, and shut the door in his face, leaving him out in the dark and the cold. CHAPTER IV David felt rather hurt at this, for having intended to ask them to tea, it was vexing to find that they didn’t intend to ask him. But before he could feel much hurt the window on the third floor was thrown open, and a giraffe looked out. It bent down to David, and whispered in his ear: ‘They’ll let you in soon. It’s a surprise.’ ‘Is it a nice one?’ asked David. ‘That depends on whether you like it. But I’ll stay and talk to you till they’re ready. You begin.’ David didn’t know what sort of conversation giraffes liked, but he supposed that, like everybody else, they enjoyed talking about themselves. ‘How did you get up to the third floor?’ he asked. ‘I should have thought you were too tall to be able to go upstairs.’ ‘I was,’ whispered the giraffe. ‘Then how did you get there?’ said David. ‘I didn’t. I’m on the ground floor all the time, and I can feel them running about among my legs. Only my head went upstairs in order to brush its hair. That’s another surprise; you never thought of that! But I didn’t see you jump when I told you. Shall I jump you?’ ‘No. I think I’ll stop where I am,’ said David. ‘Very well. I’ll tell you another thing too. Some animals are so short that they have to go down to the cellar to tie their bootlaces. I should think you were one of that sort, aren’t you?’ ‘Indeed I’m not,’ said David indignantly. ‘I’m tall enough to tie my bootlaces anywhere.’ The giraffe’s head gave a great jerk. ‘I jumped at that, you see,’ it said. ‘That was a real jumping surprise. I should never have guessed it.’ David looked up at the mild silly head above him. Certainly it looked surprised, but all giraffes did that. ‘I live on surprises,’ said the giraffe. ‘If I can’t get a proper supply of them my eyebrows come down.’ All the time it spoke it whispered into David’s ear, and tickled it.