text_original: <l She speaks of my death very freely," the old man murmured, " but she's right enough. I shan't trouble anybody long, my dear; I shan't trouble anybody long." THE EXTKES0L IX THE HUE DE I/aECHEVEQEE. 31 The tender arms wound themselves more closely about George Vane's neck.
text_transcription: SHE SPEAKS OF MY DEATH VERY FREELY THE OLD MAN MURMURED BUT SHE'S RIGHT ENOUGH I SHAN'T TROUBLE ANYBODY LONG MY DEAR I SHA'N'T TROUBLE ANYBODY LONG THE TENDER ARMS WOUND THEMSELVES MORE CLOSELY ABOUT GEORGE VANE'S NECK
phonemes: ˈɛl ʃiː spˈiːks ʌv maɪ dˈɛθ vˈɛɹi fɹˈiːli," ðɪ ˈoʊld mˈæn mˈɜːmɚd, " bˌʌt ʃiːz ɹˈaɪt ɪnˈʌf. aɪ ʃˌɑːnt tɹˈʌbəl ˈɛnɪbˌɑːdi lˈɔŋ, maɪ dˈɪɹ; aɪ ʃˌɑːnt tɹˈʌbəl ˈɛnɪbˌɑːdi lˈɔŋ." ðɪ ɛkstkˈɛz zˈiəɹoʊ ˈɛl ɹˌoʊmən nˈaɪn ðə hjˈuː də aɪ slˈæʃ ɐ ˈɛʃɪvˌɛkiː. θˈɜːɾi wˈʌn ðə tˈɛndɚɹ ˈɑːɹmz wˈuːnd ðɛmsˈɛlvz mˈɔːɹ klˈoʊsli ɐbˌaʊt dʒˈɔːɹdʒ vˈeɪnz nˈɛk.