"And why, why should you go away?" he flowed on ecstatically. "And what
are you to do in a little town? The great thing is, you are all here
together and you need one another--you do need one another, believe me.
For a time, anyway.... Take me into partnership, and I assure you we'll
plan a capital enterprise. Listen! I'll explain it all in detail to
you, the whole project! It all flashed into my head this morning,
before anything had happened... I tell you what; I have an uncle, I must
introduce him to you (a most accommodating and respectable old man).
This uncle has got a capital of a thousand roubles, and he lives on his
pension and has no need of that money. For the last two years he has
been bothering me to borrow it from him and pay him six per cent.
interest. I know what that means; he simply wants to help me. Last year
I had no need of it, but this year I resolved to borrow it as soon as
he arrived. Then you lend me another thousand of your three and we have
enough for a start, so we'll go into partnership, and what are we going
to do?"

Then Razumihin began to unfold his project, and he explained at length
that almost all our publishers and booksellers know nothing at all
of what they are selling, and for that reason they are usually bad
publishers, and that any decent publications pay as a rule and give
a profit, sometimes a considerable one. Razumihin had, indeed, been
dreaming of setting up as a publisher. For the last two years he had
been working in publishers' offices, and knew three European languages
well, though he had told Raskolnikov six days before that he was
"schwach" in German with an object of persuading him to take half his
translation and half the payment for it. He had told a lie then, and
Raskolnikov knew he was lying.