text_original: Auriol's thoughts were sombre as the weather and the hour, and he fell into a deep fit of abstraction, from which he was roused by a hand laid on his shoulder. Recoiling at the touch, he raised his eyes, and beheld the stranger leaning over him, and gazing at him with a look of diabolical exultation.
text_transcription: AUREOLE'S THOUGHTS WERE SOMBRE AS THE WEATHER AND THE HOUR AND HE FELL INTO A DEEP FIT OF ABSTRACTION FROM WHICH HE WAS ROUSED BY A HAND LAID ON HIS SHOULDER RECOILING AT THE TOUCH HE RAISED HIS EYES AND BEHELD A STRANGER LEANING OVER HIM AND GAZING AT HIM WITH A LOOK OF DIABOLICAL EXULTATION
phonemes: ˈɔːɹɪˌɑːlz θˈɔːts wɜː sˈɑːmbɚɹ æz ðə wˈɛðɚ ænd ðɪ ˈaʊɚ, ænd hiː fˈɛl ˌɪntʊ ɐ dˈiːp fˈɪt ʌv ɐbstɹˈækʃən, fɹʌm wˈɪtʃ hiː wʌz ɹˈaʊzd baɪ ɐ hˈænd lˈeɪd ˌɔn hɪz ʃˈoʊldɚ. ɹᵻkˈɔɪlɪŋ æt ðə tˈʌtʃ, hiː ɹˈeɪzd hɪz ˈaɪz, ænd bᵻhˈɛld ðə stɹˈeɪndʒɚ lˈiːnɪŋ ˈoʊvɚ hˌɪm, ænd ɡˈeɪzɪŋ æt hˌɪm wɪð ɐ lˈʊk ʌv dˌaɪəbˈɑːlɪkəl ɛɡzəltˈeɪʃən.