text_original: " I would die to save him an hour's pain. I would fling away this wretched life rather than grieve him for a moment." 26o All along the River, " Poor soul ! " murmured the priest, pitying that debt of self abasement which he understood so well, under whatso  ever guise she might hide her contrition.
text_transcription: I WOULD DIE TO SAVE HIM AN HOUR'S PAIN I WOULD FLING AWAY THIS WRETCHED LIFE RATHER THAN GRIEVE HIM FOR A MOMENT POOR SOUL MURMURED THE PRIEST PITYING THAT DEBT OF SELF ABASEMENT WHICH HE UNDERSTOOD SO WELL UNDER WHATSOEVER GUISE SHE MIGHT HIDE HER CONTRITION
phonemes: " aɪ wʊd dˈaɪ tə sˈeɪv hˌɪm ɐn ˈaʊɚz pˈeɪn. aɪ wʊd flˈɪŋ ɐwˈeɪ ðɪs ɹˈɛtʃᵻd lˈaɪf ɹˈæðɚ ðɐn ɡɹˈiːv hˌɪm fɚɹə mˈoʊmənt." twˈɛnti sˈɪks ˈoʊ ˈɔːl ɐlˈɔŋ ðə ɹˈɪvɚ, " pˈʊɹ sˈoʊl ! " mˈɜːmɚd ðə pɹˈiːst, pˈɪɾiɪŋ ðæt dˈɛt ʌv sˈɛlf ɐbˈeɪsmənt wˌɪtʃ hiː ˌʌndɚstˈʊd sˌoʊ wˈɛl, ˌʌndɚ wˈʌtsoʊ ˈɛvɚ ɡˈaɪz ʃiː mˌaɪt hˈaɪd hɜː kəntɹˈɪʃən.