He'd be lying if he said he wasn't considering stealing at that very moment. In fact, he was debating on it just as much as he was how much fabric he'd need. "Obviously they aren't afraid of that." Jefferson would leave it at that. Going on about how a ghost shop had nothing to be afraid of because they could probably do worse to them for stealing wouldn't help with Emma's little anxiety.
Rolling out the fabric on a table, Jefferson measured out against the yard stick how much he'd need. Extracting the scissors from his back pocket he made smooth and precise cut, folded the bounty, and let it plop into the basket at his elbow. It was probably rude to just leave the fabric where it was but he didn't owe this Tailor any favors. It didn't look like they didn't have any time to put it away either.
"No." His answer came dryly with the change of subject, indeed sore and enough to change his demeanor from the light focused way he moved around the store to a more haggard, forced thing. Like when she'd first met him in Storybrooke. Breathing required a forced effort because even that was painful. "I used my hat to get people where they wanted to go, or the things they wanted."
The stock on molding substance was fairly small and he'd have to really look them over. Pay attention to what this crap was, because it wasn't the subject of the conversation. It was the hat material, dammit. "After that I collected mushrooms because it's decidedly less dangerous for children. I never made a hat, only..things for Grace. And it looked like garbage anyways."