text_original: Still with that strange composure which never lasts long, Rhoda ran to the nearest cottage. Its windows were closed, and all was silent; but she beat hard upon the door with her clenched hands. A voice called to her from within, but she never ceased knocking until a labourer came forth.
text_transcription: STILL WITH THAT STRANGE COMPOSURE WHICH NEVER LASTS LONG RHODA RAN TO THE NEAREST COTTAGE ITS WINDOWS WERE CLOSED AND ALL WAS SILENT BUT SHE BEAT HARD UPON THE DOOR WITH HER CLENCHED HANDS A VOICE CALLED TO HER FROM WITHIN BUT SHE NEVER CEASED KNOCKING UNTIL A LABORER CAME FORTH
phonemes: stˈɪl wɪð ðæt stɹˈeɪndʒ kəmpˈoʊʒɚ wˌɪtʃ nˈɛvɚ lˈæsts lˈɔŋ, ɹˈoʊdɚ ɹˈæn tə ðə nˌɪɹɪst kˈɑːɾɪdʒ. ɪts wˈɪndoʊz wɜː klˈoʊzd, ænd ˈɔːl wʌz sˈaɪlənt; bˌʌt ʃiː bˈiːt hˈɑːɹd əpˌɑːn ðə dˈɔːɹ wɪð hɜː klˈɛntʃt hˈændz. ɐ vˈɔɪs kˈɔːld tə hɜː fɹʌm wɪðˈɪn, bˌʌt ʃiː nˈɛvɚ sˈiːst nˈɑːkɪŋ ʌntˈɪl ɐ lˈeɪbɚɹɚ kˈeɪm fˈɔːɹθ.