text_original: She paused ; her voice was drowned in tears. Still HANS OF ICELAND. 465 her grief stricken countenance was radiant with her long  ing to win the ill omened victory which must be her death. Ordener said : " Xo more of this, Ethel. Let no name but yours and mine pass our lips at such a moment."
text_transcription: SHE PAUSED HER VOICE WAS DROWNED IN TEARS STILL HER GRIEF STRICKEN COUNTENANCE WAS RADIANT WITH HER LONGING TO WIN THE ILL OMENED VICTORY WHICH MUST BE HER DEATH ORDNA SAID NO MORE OF THIS EFFORT LET NO NAME BUT YOURS AND MINE PASS OUR LIPS AT SUCH A MOMENT
phonemes: ʃiː pˈɔːzd ; hɜː vˈɔɪs wʌz dɹˈaʊnd ɪn tˈɪɹz. stˈɪl hˈænz ʌv ˈaɪslənd. fˈɔːɹhˈʌndɹɪd sˈɪksti fˈaɪv hɜː ɡɹˈiːf stɹˈɪkən kˈaʊntənəns wʌz ɹˈeɪdiənt wɪð hɜː lˈɔŋ ˈɪŋ tə wˈɪn ðɪ ˈɪl ˈoʊmɛnd vˈɪktɚɹi wˌɪtʃ mˈʌst biː hɜː dˈɛθ. ˈɔːɹdənɚ sˈɛd : " zˈoʊ mˈɔːɹ ʌv ðˈɪs, ˈɛθəl. lˈɛt nˈoʊ nˈeɪm bˌʌt jˈɔːɹz ænd mˈaɪn pˈæs ˌaʊɚ lˈɪps æt sˈʌtʃ ɐ mˈoʊmənt."