text_original: You know not what love is, Monsieur Reetchie, you never love laik me. You have not sem risson. Monsieur," he continued, leaning forward and putting his hand on my knee, "I think she love me  I am not sure. I should not be surprise'.
text_transcription: YOU KNOW NOT WHAT LOVE IS MONSIEUR RICHE YOU NEVER LOVE LIKE ME YOU HAVE NOT SOME REASON MONSIEUR HE CONTINUED LEANING FORWARD AND PUTTING HIS HAND ON MY KNEE I THINK SHE LOVED ME I AM NOT SURE I SHOULD NOT BE SURPRISED
phonemes: juː nˈoʊ nˌɑːt wʌt lˈʌv ɪz, məsjˈɜː ɹˈiːtʃi, juː nˈɛvɚ lˈʌv lˈeɪk mˌiː. juː hɐvnˌɑːt sˈɛm ɹˈɪsən. məsjˈɜː," hiː kəntˈɪnjuːd, lˈiːnɪŋ fˈɔːɹwɚd ænd pˈʊɾɪŋ hɪz hˈænd ˌɔn maɪ nˈiː, "aɪ θˈɪŋk ʃiː lˈʌv mˌiː aɪɐm nˌɑːt ʃˈʊɹ. aɪ ʃˌʊd nˌɑːt biː sɚpɹˈaɪz.