text_original: It was the dead season of the year. The late lingering roses on the walls had a sodden look, the pepper trees drooped disconsolately, and a curtain of grey mist hung over the parade, where Vera had walked, alone and dejected, before the coming of Giulia and her father.
text_transcription: IT WAS THE DEAD SEASON OF THE YEAR THE LATE LINGERING ROSES ON THE WALLS HAD A SODDEN LOOK THE PEPPER TREES DROOPED DISCONSOLATELY AND A CURTAIN OF GRAY MIST HUNG OVER THE PARADE WHERE VERA HAD WALKED ALONE AND DEJECTED BEFORE THE COMING OF JULIA AND HER FATHER
phonemes: ɪt wʌzðə dˈɛd sˈiːzən ʌvðə jˈɪɹ. ðə lˈeɪt lˈɪŋɡɚɹɪŋ ɹˈoʊzᵻz ɔnðə wˈɔːlz hæd ɐ sˈɑːdən lˈʊk, ðə pˈɛpɚ tɹˈiːz dɹˈuːpt dɪskˈɑːnsələtli, ænd ɐ kˈɜːtən ʌv ɡɹˈeɪ mˈɪst hˈʌŋ ˌoʊvɚ ðə pɚɹˈeɪd, wˌɛɹ vˈiəɹə hæd wˈɔːkt, ɐlˈoʊn ænd dᵻdʒˈɛktᵻd, bᵻfˌɔːɹ ðə kˈʌmɪŋ ʌv dʒɪjˈuːliə ænd hɜː fˈɑːðɚ.