Here they were alone.

She laid her hands upon his shoulders and looked up into his eyes.

Her lips drew nearer to his.
"Kiss me--upon the lips, Leopold," she ordered.
"There is no Leopold here," he replied; "you yourself have said it." She came a little nearer.

"Upon the lips," she whispered.
He held her, stooped down, and their lips met.

Then she stood apart from him.