I am going to have him on toast.

Just you watch, my dears." She called him very softly: "Deutz! Deutz!" The Baron came towards her, smiling and well-pleased with himself, and leaned his elbows on the edge of the box.
"Tell me, Monsieur Deutz, when you met me yesterday, were you in very bad company that you did not raise your hat to me ?" He looked at her in astonishment.
"I?
I was with my sister." "Oh!" On the stage, Marie-Claire, hanging upon Durville's neck, was exclaiming: "Go! Victorious or defeated, in good or evil fortune, your glory will be equally great.

Come what may, I shall know how to show myself the wife of a hero." "That will do, Madame Marie-Claire!" said Pradel.
Just at that moment Chevalier made his entry, and immediately the author, tearing his hair, let loose a flood of imprecations: "Do you call that an entry?
It's a tumble, a catastrophe, a cataclysm! Ye gods! A meteor, an aerolith, a bit of the moon falling on to the stage would be less horribly disastrous! I will take off my play! Chevalier, come in again, my good fellow!" The artist who had designed the costumes, Michel, a fair young man with a mystic's beard, was seated in the first row, on the arm of a stall.

He leaned over and whispered into the ear of Roger, the scene-painter: "And to think it's the fifty-sixth time that he's dropped on Chevalier with the same fury!" "Well, you know, Chevalier is rottenly bad," replied Roger, without hesitation.
"It isn't that he is bad," returned Michel indulgently.

"But he always seems to be laughing, and nothing could be worse for a comedy actor.