From the picture Philip had looked at Celie, and the look he had seen in her eyes and face filled his heart with a leaden chill.

It was more than hope that had flared up in his breast since he had entered Bram Johnson's cabin.

And now that hope went suddenly out, and with its extinguishment he was oppressed by a deep and gloomy foreboding.
He went slowly to the window and looked out.
The next moment Celie was startled by the sudden sharp cry that burst from his lips.

Swiftly she ran to his side.

He had dropped the paper.
His hands were gripping the edge of the sill, and he was staring like one who could not believe his own eyes.
"Good God--look! Look at that!" They had heard no sound outside the cabin during the last few minutes.
Yet under their eyes, stretched out in the soiled and trampled snow, lay the wolf that a short time before had been gnawing a bone.