text_original: The air in _The Luck_ was growing foul and the food was gone. Death hung in the fetid atmosphere of the tiny control room. The old man  the boy  the money. They all seemed to spin in a narrowing circle. Kane wanted suddenly to shriek with laughter.
text_transcription: THE AIR IN THE LUCK WAS GROWING FOUL AND THE FOOD WAS GONE DEATH HUNG IN THE FETID ATMOSPHERE OF THE TINY CONTROL ROOM THE OLD MAN THE BOY THE MONEY THEY ALL SEEMED TO SPIN IN A NARROWING CIRCLE CAIN WANTED SUDDENLY TO SHRIEK WITH LAUGHTER
phonemes: ðɪ ˈɛɹ ɪnðə lˈʌk wʌz ɡɹˈoʊɪŋ fˈaʊl ænd ðə fˈuːd wʌz ɡˈɔn. dˈɛθ hˈʌŋ ɪnðə fˈɛɾɪd ˈætməsfˌɪɹ ʌvðə tˈaɪni kəntɹˈoʊl ɹˈuːm. ðɪ ˈoʊld mˈæn ðə bˈɔɪ ðə mˈʌni. ðeɪ ˈɔːl sˈiːmd tə spˈɪn ɪn ɐ nˈæɹoʊɪŋ sˈɜːkəl. kˈeɪn wˈɔntᵻd sˈʌdənli tə ʃɹˈiːk wɪð lˈæftɚ.