(read by Ruth Golding)
Even as I looked up, I saw his tall, spare figure
pass twice in a dark silhouette
against the blind.
He was pacing the room swiftly, eagerly
with his head sunk upon his chest
and his hands clasped behind him.
hɪz ˈruːmz | wɜː ˈbrɪljəntli ˈlɪt |
ˈiːvn əz aɪ lʊkt ˈʌp | aɪ ˈsɔː | hɪz ˈtɔːl ˈspeə ˈfɪɡə |
ˈpɑːs ˈtwaɪs | ɪn ə ˈdɑːk sɪluˈet |
əˈɡenst ðə ˈblaɪnd |
hi wəz ˈpeɪsɪŋ ðə ˈruːm | ˈswɪftli | ˈiːɡəli |
wɪð hɪz ˈhed ˈsʌŋk əˈpɒn hɪz ˈtʃest |
ənd hɪz ˈhændz | ˈklɑːspt bəˈhaɪnd hɪm |