Sunday 25 March 2018

A Scandal in Bohemia, Chapter 3, part 3

maɪ ˈdɪə ˈmɪstə ˈʃɜːlɒk ˈhəʊmz

ju ˈrɪəli ˈdɪd ɪt ˈveri ˈwel || ju ˈtʊk mi ˈɪŋ kəmˈpliːtli || ənˈtɪl ˈɑːftə ði əˈlɑːm əv ˈfaɪə | aɪ ˈhædn̩ ə səˈspɪʃn̩ || bət ˈðen | ˈwen aɪ ˈfaʊnd ˈhaʊ aɪb bɪˈtreɪb maɪˈself | aɪ bɪˈɡæn tə ˈθɪŋk || ˈaɪb biːn ˈwɔːnd əˈɡensʧu | ˈmʌnθs əˈɡəʊ || aɪb biːn ˈtəʊld | ðət ˈɪf ðə ˈkɪŋ ɪmˈplɔɪd ən ˈeɪʤənt | ɪt əd ˈsɜːtn̩li bi ˈjuː || ən jɔːr əˈdres əb biːŋ ˈɡɪvm̩ mi || ˈjet wɪð ˈɔːl ˈðɪs | ju ˈmeɪb mi rɪˈviːl | wɒʧu ˈwɒntɪd tə ˈnəʊ || ˈiːvn̩ ˈɑːftər aɪ bɪˈkeɪm səˈspɪʃəs | aɪ ˈfaʊnd ɪt ˈhɑːd tə ˈθɪŋk ˈiːvl̩ | əv ˈsʌʧ ə ˈdɪə ˈkaɪnd ˈəʊl ˈklɜːʤimən || bəʧu ˈnəʊ | aɪv biːn ˈtraɪnd əz ən ˈæktrəs maɪˈself || ˈmeɪl ˈkɒsʧuːm | ɪz ˈnʌθɪŋ ˈnjuː tə mi || aɪ ˈɒfn̩ ˈteɪk ədˈvɑːntɪʤ | ə ðə ˈfriːdəm ɪk ˈɡɪvz || aɪ ˈsent ˈʤɒn | ðə ˈkəʊʧmən | tə ˈwɒʧ ju | ˈræn ˈʌp ˈsteəz | ˈɡɒt ɪntə maɪ ˈwɔːkɪŋ ˈkləʊz əz aɪ ˈkɔːl ðəm | əŋ ˈkeɪm ˈdaʊn | ˈʤʌst əz ju dɪˈpɑːtɪd

wel aɪ ˈfɒləʊʤu tə jɔː ˈdɔː | ən ˈsəʊ ˈmeɪd ˈʃɔː | ðət aɪ wəz ˈrɪəli ən ˈɒbʤekt əv ˈɪntrest | tə ðə ˈseləbreɪtɪb ˈmɪstə ˈʃɜːlɒk ˈhəʊmz || ˈðen aɪ ˈrɑːdər ɪmˈpruːdn̩tli | ˈwɪʃʧu ˈɡʊd ˈnaɪt | ən ˈstɑːtɪd fə ðə ˈtempl̩ | tə ˈsiː maɪ ˈhʌzbənd

wi ˈbəʊθ ˈθɔːt | ðə ˈbes rɪˈzɔːs wəz ˈflaɪt | wem pəˈsuːb baɪ ˈsəʊ fəˈmɪdəbl̩ ən ænˈtæɡənɪst | səʊ jul ˈfaɪn ðə ˈnest ˈemti | wen ju ˈkɔːl təˈmɒrəʊ || ˈæz tə ðə ˈfəʊtəɡrɑːf | jɔː ˈklaɪəmp meɪ ˈrest ɪm ˈpiːs || aɪ ˈlʌv ən əm ˈlʌvd | baɪ ə ˈbetə ˈmæn ðən ˈhiː || ðə ˈkɪŋ meɪ ˈduː wɒt i ˈwɪl | wɪˈðaʊt ˈhɪndrəns | frəm ˈwʌn huːm iz ˈkruːəli ˈrɒŋd || aɪ ˈkiːp ɪt ˈəʊnli tə ˈseɪfɡɑːb maɪˈself | ən tə prɪˈzɜːv ə ˈwepən | wɪʧl̩ ˈɔːwɪz sɪˈkjɔː mi | frəm ˈeni ˈsteps | wɪʧ i ˈmaɪt ˈteɪk ɪn ðə ˈfjuːʧə || aɪ ˈliːv ə ˈfəʊtəɡrɑːf | wɪʧ i ˈmaɪk ˈkeə tə pəˈzes | ən aɪ rɪˈmeɪn | ˈdɪə ˈmɪstə ˈʃɜːlɒk ˈhəʊmz

ˈveri ˈtruːli ˈjɔːz

ˈaɪriːn ˈnɔːtn | ˈneɪ ˈæd


“My dear Mr. Sherlock Holmes:
“You really did it very well. You took me in completely. Until after the alarm of fire, I had not a suspicion. But then, when I found how I had betrayed myself, I began to think. I had been warned against you months ago. I had been told that if the King employed an agent it would certainly be you. And your address had been given me. Yet, with all this, you made me reveal what you wanted to know. Even after I became suspicious, I found it hard to think evil of such a dear, kind old clergyman. But, you know, I have been trained as an actress myself. Male costume is nothing new to me. I often take advantage of the freedom which it gives. I sent John, the coachman, to watch you, ran up stairs, got into my walking-clothes, as I call them, and came down just as you departed.
“Well, I followed you to your door, and so made sure that I was really an object of interest to the celebrated Mr. Sherlock Holmes. Then I, rather imprudently, wished you good-night, and started for the Temple to see my husband.
“We both thought the best resource was flight, when pursued by so formidable an antagonist; so you will find the nest empty when you call to-morrow. As to the photograph, your client may rest in peace. I love and am loved by a better man than he. The King may do what he will without hindrance from one whom he has cruelly wronged. I keep it only to safeguard myself, and to preserve a weapon which will always secure me from any steps which he might take in the future. I leave a photograph which he might care to possess; and I remain, dear Mr. Sherlock Holmes,
“Very truly yours,
“Irene Norton, 
née Adler.”

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