When Arcturus said the words, You oughtn’t to have to work for them, Antonin knew precisely what the lad meant. The idea of needing to rely on Muggles, for charity, for employment, galled him on a deep level. Immediately, his expression became dark and sinister, deeply lined with a loathing that issued from the very core of this being. The transformation from weak and infirm to murderous was dramatic. It was good for the Muggles mulling around the area that Antonin was weak, because he might've just found an excuse to curse somebody without provocation.
The mood passed relatively quickly, and he returned to his previous state. "A cousin, you say?" He grimaced. "I would be pleased to make her acquaintance. Yes, you are quite correct. I should not compromise my ideals."
The sound of the approaching carriage made Antonin lift his eyes in that direction, but he otherwise did not move. "There are no other Wizards beside ourselves and your cousin in Preya?" he asked.