A Scandal in Bohemia, Chapter 2, part 9

hi ˈdɪsəˈpɪəd ɪntu ɪz ˈbedruːm | ən rɪˈtɜːnd ɪn ə ˈfjuː ˈmɪnɪts | ɪn ðə ˈkærəktər əv ən ˈeɪmiəbl̩ | ən ˈsɪmpl̩ ˈmaɪndɪd | ˈnɒŋkənˈfɔːmɪs ˈklɜːʤimən || hɪz ˈbrɔːd ˈblæk ˈhæt | hɪz ˈbæɡi ˈtraʊzəz | hɪz ˈwaɪt ˈtaɪ | hɪz ˈsɪmpəˈθetɪk ˈsmaɪl | ən ˈʤenrəl ˈlʊk əv ˈpɪərɪŋ əm bəˈnevələŋk ˈkjɔːriˈɒsəti | wə ˈsʌʧ əz ˈmɪstə ˈʤɒn ˈheər əˈləʊŋ kʊd əv ˈiːkwəld || ɪt wəz ˈnɒt ˈmɪəli | ðət ˈhəʊmz ˈʧeɪnʤd ɪz ˈkɒsʧuːm || hɪz ɪkˈspreʃn̩ | hɪz ˈmænə | hɪz ˈveri ˈsəʊl ˈsiːm tə ˈveəri | wɪð ˈevri ˈfreʃ ˈpɑːt ðət i əˈsjuːmd || ðə ˈsteɪʤ ˈlɒst ə ˈfaɪn ˈæktə | ˈiːvn̩ əz ˈsaɪəns ˈlɒst ən əˈkjuːt ˈriːznə | wen i bɪˈkeɪm ə ˈspeʃl̩ɪst ɪŋ ˈkraɪm

ɪt wəz ə ˈkɔːtə ˈpɑːs ˈsɪks | wen wi ˈlef ˈbeɪkə ˈstriːt | ən ɪt ˈstɪl ˈwɒntɪd ˈtem ˈmɪnɪts tə ði ˈaʊə | wen wi ˈfaʊnd ɑːˈselvz | ɪn ˈsɜːpəntaɪn ˈævənjuː || ɪt wəz ɔːˈredi ˈdʌsk | ən ðə ˈlæmps wə ˈʤʌs biːɪŋ ˈlaɪtɪd | əz wi ˈpeɪst ˈʌp ən ˈdaʊn | ɪn ˈfrʌnt əv ˈbraɪəni ˈlɒʤ | ˈweɪtɪŋ fə ðə ˈkʌmɪŋ əv ɪts ˈɒkjupənt || ðə ˈhaʊs wəz ˈʤʌs ˈsʌʧ əz aɪb ˈpɪkʧəd ɪt | frəm ˈʃɜːlɒk ˈhəʊmzɪz səkˈsɪŋt dɪˈskrɪpʃn̩ | bət ðə ləʊˈkæləti əˈpɪəd tə bi ˈles ˈpraɪvɪt | ðən aɪ ɪkˈspektɪd || ɒn ðə ˈkɒntrəri | fər ə ˈsmɔːl ˈstriːt | ɪn ə ˈkwaɪət ˈneɪbəhʊd | ɪt wəz rəˈmɑːkəbli ˈænəmeɪtɪd || ðə wəz ə ˈɡruːp əv ˈʃæbəli ˈdres ˈmen | ˈsməʊkɪŋ ən ˈlɑːfɪŋ ɪn ə ˈkɔːnə | ə ˈsɪzəz ˈɡraɪndə | wɪð ɪz ˈwiːl | ˈtuː ˈɡɑːdzmən  | hu wə ˈflɜːtɪŋ wɪð ə ˈnɜːs ˈɡɜːl | ən ˈsevrəl ˈwel ˈdrest ˈjʌŋ ˈmen | hu wə ˈlaʊnʤɪŋ ˈʌp ən ˈdaʊn | wɪð sɪˈɡɑːz ɪn ðeə ˈmaʊðz

ju ˈsiː rəˈmɑːkt ˈhəʊmz | əz wi ˈpeɪs ˈtuː ə ˈfrəʊ | ɪn ˈfrʌnt ə ðə ˈhaʊs | ˈðɪs ˈmærɪʤ | ˈrɑːðə ˈsɪmpləfaɪz ˈmætəz || ðə ˈfəʊtəɡrɑːf bɪˈkʌmz ə ˈdʌbl̩ ˈeʤ ˈwepən | ˈnaʊ || ðə ˈʧɑːnsɪz ˈɑː | ðət ʃib bi əz əˈvɜːs tu ɪts ˈbiːɪŋ ˈsiːm baɪ ˈmɪstə ˈɡɒdfri ˈnɔːtn̩ | əz ɑː ˈklaɪənt ˈɪz | tu ɪts ˈkʌmɪŋ tə ði ˈaɪz əv ɪz ˈprɪnses || naʊ ðə ˈkwesʧən ˈɪz | ˈweər ə wi tə ˈfaɪn ðə ˈfəʊtəɡrɑːf

 Doyle, Arthur Conan. The Original Illustrated Sherlock Holmes. “Reproduced from the original publication in The Strand Magazine with the classic illustrations by Sidney Paget.” Edison, New Jersey: Castle Books, [after 1954]. Internet Archive version of a copy donated by Friends of the San Francisco Library. http://www.victorianweb.org/art/illustration/pagets/7.html

He disappeared into his bedroom and returned in a few minutes in the character of an amiable and simple-minded Nonconformist clergyman. His broad black hat, his baggy trousers, his white tie, his sympathetic smile, and general look of peering and benevolent curiosity were such as Mr. John Hare alone could have equalled. It was not merely that Holmes changed his costume. His expression, his manner, his very soul seemed to vary with every fresh part that he assumed. The stage lost a fine actor, even as science lost an acute reasoner, when he became a specialist in crime.

It was a quarter past six when we left Baker Street, and it still wanted ten minutes to the hour when we found ourselves in Serpentine Avenue. It was already dusk, and the lamps were just being lighted as we paced up and down in front of Briony Lodge, waiting for the coming of its occupant. The house was just such as I had pictured it from Sherlock Holmes' succinct description, but the locality appeared to be less private than I expected. On the contrary, for a small street in a quiet neighbourhood, it was remarkably animated. There was a group of shabbily dressed men smoking and laughing in a corner, a scissors-grinder with his wheel, two guardsmen who were flirting with a nurse-girl, and several well-dressed young men who were lounging up and down with cigars in their mouths.

“You see,” remarked Holmes, as we paced to and fro in front of the house, “this marriage rather simplifies matters. The photograph becomes a double-edged weapon now. The chances are that she would be as averse to its being seen by Mr. Godfrey Norton, as our client is to its coming to the eyes of his princess. Now the question is—Where are we to find the photograph?”