text_original: Eleanor Vane shook her head with an impatient gesture. " Don't talk to me of my sorrow," she cried, 166 ELEANOE 'S VICTORY. " what does it matter what I suffer ? My father, my poor father, what must he have suffered before he did this dreadful act ? Don't talk about me ; tell me of him, and tell me the worst."
text_transcription: ELINOR VANE SHOOK HER HEAD WITH AN IMPATIENT GESTURE DON'T TALK TO ME OF MY SORROW SHE CRIED WHAT DOES IT MATTER WHAT I SUFFER MY FATHER MY POOR FATHER WHAT MUST HE HAVE SUFFERED BEFORE HE DID THIS DREADFUL ACT DON'T TALK ABOUT ME TELL ME OF HIM AND TELL ME THE WORST
phonemes: ᵻlˈiːnɚ vˈeɪn ʃˈʊk hɜː hˈɛd wɪð ɐn ɪmpˈeɪʃənt dʒˈɛstʃɚ. " dˈoʊnt tˈɔːk tə mˌiː ʌv maɪ sˈɑːɹoʊ," ʃiː kɹˈaɪd, wˈʌnhˈʌndɹɪd sˈɪksti sˈɪks ᵻlˈiːnoʊ ˈɛs vˈɪktɚɹi. " wˌʌt dˈʌz ɪt mˈæɾɚ wʌt aɪ sˈʌfɚ ? maɪ fˈɑːðɚ, maɪ pˈʊɹ fˈɑːðɚ, wˌʌt mˈʌst hiː hæv sˈʌfɚd bᵻfˌɔːɹ hiː dˈɪd ðɪs dɹˈɛdfəl ˈækt ? dˈoʊnt tˈɔːk ɐbˈaʊt mˌiː ; tˈɛl mˌiː ʌv hˌɪm, ænd tˈɛl mˌiː ðə wˈɜːst."