text_original: Mrs. Pendyce was crossing the fields. She had on her prettiest frock, of smoky grey crepe, and she looked a little anxiously at the sky. Gathered in the west a coming storm was chasing the whitened sunlight.
text_transcription: MISSUS PENDISE WAS CROSSING THE FIELDS SHE HAD ON HER PRETTIEST FROCK OF SMOKY GREY CRAPE AND SHE LOOKED A LITTLE ANXIOUSLY AT THE SKY GATHERED IN THE WEST A COMING STORM WAS CHASING THE WHITENED SUNLIGHT
phonemes: mˈɪsɪz. pˈɛndaɪs wʌz kɹˈɔsɪŋ ðə fˈiːldz. ʃiː hæd ˌɔn hɜː pɹˈɪɾiɪst fɹˈɑːk, ʌv smˈoʊki ɡɹˈeɪ kɹˈeɪp, ænd ʃiː lˈʊkt ɐ lˈɪɾəl ˈæŋʃəsli æt ðə skˈaɪ. ɡˈæðɚd ɪnðə wˈɛst ɐ kˈʌmɪŋ stˈɔːɹm wʌz tʃˈeɪsɪŋ ðə wˈaɪʔn̩d sˈʌnlaɪt.