text_original: "Or the lack of it," answered Mr. Riddle, pulling out a silver snuff box from his pocket and staring at it ruefully. "Damme, the snuff I fetched from Paris is gone, all but a pinch. Here is a real tragedy." "It was the same in Rome," the lady continued, unheeding, "when we met the Izards, and at Venice that nasty Colonel Tarleton saw us at the opera. In London we must needs run into the Manners from Maryland.
text_transcription: OR THE LACK OF IT ANSWERED MISTER RIDDLE PULLING OUT A SILVER SNUFF BOX FROM HIS POCKET AND STARING AT IT RUEFULLY DAMN THE SNUFF I FETCH FROM PARIS IS GONE ALL BUT A PITCH HERE'S A REAL TRAGEDY IT WAS THE SAME IN ROME THE LADY CONTINUED UNHEEDING WHEN WE MET THE LIZARDS AND AT VENICE THAT NASTY COLONEL CAROLTON SAW US AT THE OPERA IN LONDON WE MUST NEEDS RUN INTO THE MANORS FROM MARYLAND
phonemes: "ɔːɹ ðə lˈæk ʌv ɪt," ˈænsɚd mˈɪstɚ. ɹˈɪdəl, pˈʊlɪŋ ˈaʊt ɐ sˈɪlvɚ snˈʌf bˈɑːks fɹʌm hɪz pˈɑːkɪt ænd stˈɛɹɪŋ æɾ ɪt ɹˈuːfəli. "dˈæm, ðə snˈʌf aɪ fˈɛtʃt fɹʌm pˈæɹɪs ɪz ɡˈɔn, ˈɔːl bˌʌt ɐ pˈɪntʃ. hˈɪɹ ɪz ɐ ɹˈiːəl tɹˈædʒədi." "ɪt wʌzðə sˈeɪm ɪn ɹˈoʊm," ðə lˈeɪdi kəntˈɪnjuːd, ʌnhˈiːdɪŋ, "wˌɛn wiː mˈɛt ðɪ ˈɪzɚdz, ænd æt vˈɛnɪs ðæt nˈæsti kˈɜːnəl tˈɑːɹɹəltən sˈɔː ˌʌs æt ðɪ ˈɑːpɚɹə. ɪn lˈʌndən wiː mˈʌst nˈiːdz ɹˈʌn ˌɪntʊ ðə mˈænɚz fɹʌm mˈɛɹɪlˌænd.