text_original: "Not if I ask you, Horace?" The Squire's face was suffused with dusky colour; he clenched his hands and seemed to sway and hesitate. "No, Margery," he said hoarsely; "it's  it's  I can't!" And, breaking away from her, he left the room. Mrs. Pendyce looked after him; her fingers, from which he had torn his coat, began twining the one with the other.
text_transcription: NOT IF I ASK YOU HORACE THE SQUIRE'S FACE WAS SUFFUSED WITH DUSTY COLOR HE CLINCHED HIS HANDS AND SEEMED TO SWAY AND HESITATE NO MARJORIE HE SAID HOARSELY IT'S IT'S I CAN'T AND BREAKING AWAY FROM HER HE LEFT THE ROOM MISSUS PANDISE LOOKED AFTER HIM HER FINGERS FROM WHICH HE HAD TORN HIS COAT BEGAN TWINING THE ONE WITH THE OTHER
phonemes: "nˌɑːt ɪf aɪ ˈæsk juː, hˈɔːɹəs?" ðə skwˈaɪɚz fˈeɪs wʌz sʌfjˈuːzd wɪð dˈʌski kˈʌlɚ; hiː klˈɛntʃt hɪz hˈændz ænd sˈiːmd tə swˈeɪ ænd hˈɛzᵻtˌeɪt. "nˈoʊ, mˈɑːɹdʒɚɹi," hiː sˈɛd hˈɔːɹsli; "ɪts ɪts aɪ kˈænt!" ænd, bɹˈeɪkɪŋ ɐwˈeɪ fɹʌm hɜː, hiː lˈɛft ðə ɹˈuːm. mˈɪsɪz. pˈɛndaɪs lˈʊkt ˈæftɚ hˌɪm; hɜː fˈɪŋɡɚz, fɹʌm wˈɪtʃ hiː hæd tˈɔːɹn hɪz kˈoʊt, bɪɡˈæn twˈaɪnɪŋ ðə wˈʌn wɪððɪ ˈʌðɚ.