text_original: Somewhere behind those drawn blinds the Admiral was fuming. She yearned to hold his hand and comfort him and soothe his feelings, wounded, as well she knew, by the sneers and open mutiny of the Walk. But how to get at him?
text_transcription: SOMEWHERE BEHIND THOSE DRAWN BLINDS THE ADMIRAL WAS FUMING SHE YEARNED TO HOLD HIS HAND AND COMFORT HIM AND SOOTH HIS FEELINGS WOUNDED AS WELL SHE KNEW BY THE SNEERS AND OPEN MUTINY OF THE WALK BUT HOW TO GET AT HIM
phonemes: sˈʌmwɛɹ bᵻhˌaɪnd ðoʊz dɹˈɔːn blˈaɪndz ðɪ ˈædmɜːɹəl wʌz fjˈuːmɪŋ. ʃiː jˈɜːnd tə hˈoʊld hɪz hˈænd ænd kˈʌmfɚt hˌɪm ænd sˈuːð hɪz fˈiːlɪŋz, wˈuːndᵻd, æz wˈɛl ʃiː nˈuː, baɪ ðə snˈɪɹz ænd ˈoʊpən mjˈuːtɪni ʌvðə wˈɔːk. bˌʌt hˌaʊ tə ɡˈɛt æt hˌɪm?