text_original: Garry's struggles were futile; his hands were tied before him. The shooting pain of a prodding spear brought him from the paralyzing numbness that held him, and he came dizzily to his feet. Again the walls whirled, and he would have fallen headlong but for a lithe, soft body that sprang close to throw white arms about him.
text_transcription: GARRY'S STRUGGLES WERE FUTILE HIS HANDS WERE TIED BEFORE HIM THE SHOOTING PAIN OF A PRODDING SPEAR BROUGHT HIM FROM THE PARALYZING NUMBNESS THAT HELD HIM AND HE CAME DIZZILY TO HIS FEET AGAIN THE WALLS WHIRLED AND HE WOULD HAVE FALLEN HEADLONG BUT FOR A LITHE SOFT BODY THAT SPRANG CLOSE TO THROW WHITE ARMS ABOUT HIM
phonemes: ɡˈæɹiz stɹˈʌɡəlz wɜː fjˈuːɾəl; hɪz hˈændz wɜː tˈaɪd bᵻfˈɔːɹ hˌɪm. ðə ʃˈuːɾɪŋ pˈeɪn əvə pɹˈɑːdɪŋ spˈɪɹ bɹˈɔːt hˌɪm fɹʌmðə pˈæɹəlˌaɪzɪŋ nˈʌmnəs ðæt hˈɛld hˌɪm, ænd hiː kˈeɪm dˈɪzɪli tə hɪz fˈiːt. ɐɡˈɛn ðə wˈɔːlz wˈɜːld, ænd hiː wʊdhɐv fˈɔːlən hˈɛdlɔŋ bˌʌt fɚɹə lˈaɪð, sˈɔft bˈɑːdi ðæt spɹˈæŋ klˈoʊs tə θɹˈoʊ wˈaɪt ˈɑːɹmz ɐbˈaʊt hˌɪm.