text_original: The count rose and paced the room, rubbing his hands. " Musdojmon, dear Musdo?mon, but one more effort, and our end is gained. The young shoot is blasted.
text_transcription: THE COUNT ROSE AND PACED THE ROOM RUBBING HIS HANDS MUSTEMON DEAR MUST DEMON BUT ONE MORE EFFORT AND OUR END IS GAINED THE YOUNG SHOOT IS BLASTED
phonemes: ðə kˈaʊnt ɹˈoʊz ænd pˈeɪst ðə ɹˈuːm, ɹˈʌbɪŋ hɪz hˈændz. " mˈʌsdɑːdʒmən, dˈɪɹ mˈʌsdoʊ?mˈɑːn, bˌʌt wˈʌn mˈɔːɹ ˈɛfɚt, ænd ˌaʊɚɹ ˈɛnd ɪz ɡˈeɪnd. ðə jˈʌŋ ʃˈuːt ɪz blˈæstᵻd.