text_original: He came and laid a hand on my shoulder. "What the devil ails you, Davy?" he cried. "If it is an elopement, of course I won't press you. I'm hanged if I'll make a third." "It is no elopement," I retorted, my face growing hot in spite of myself.
text_transcription: HE CAME AND LAID A HAND ON MY SHOULDER WHAT THE DEVIL AILED YOU DAVY HE CRIED IF IT IS AN ELOPEMENT OF COURSE I WON'T PRESS YOU I'M HANGED IF I'LL MAKE A THIRD IT'S NO ELOPEMENT I RETORTED MY FACE GROWING HOT IN SPITE OF MYSELF
phonemes: hiː kˈeɪm ænd lˈeɪd ɐ hˈænd ˌɔn maɪ ʃˈoʊldɚ. "wˌʌt ðə dˈɛvəl ˈeɪlz juː, dˈeɪvi?" hiː kɹˈaɪd. "ɪf ɪɾ ɪz ɐn ᵻlˈoʊpmənt, ʌv kˈɔːɹs aɪ woʊnt pɹˈɛs juː. aɪm hˈæŋd ɪf aɪl mˌeɪk ɐ θˈɜːd." "ɪɾ ɪz nˈoʊ ᵻlˈoʊpmənt," aɪ ɹᵻtˈɔːɹɾᵻd, maɪ fˈeɪs ɡɹˈoʊɪŋ hˈɑːt ɪn spˈaɪt ʌv maɪsˈɛlf.