She knew nothing more than she already had told him.
It came back to him, however, that several times his wife's casual references to the past, and particularly regarding her parents, had not dove-tailed, but that he had dismissed the impression; attributing it to some lapse in his own attention.

He had a bad habit of listening and thinking out a knotty business problem at the same time.

And there is a curious inhibition in loyal minds which forbids them to put two and two together until suspicion is inescapably aroused.
He had a very well ordered mind, furnished with innumerable little pigeon holes, which flew open at the proper vibration from his admirable memory.
He concentrated this memory upon a little bureau of purely personal receptacles and before long certain careless phrases of his wife stood in a neat row.
She had mentioned upon one occasion that she thought she must have been about five when she arrived in Rouen, and remembered her first impression of the Cathedral as well as the boats on the Seine at night.

And Cousin Pierre had taken her up the river one Sunday to the church on the height which had been built for a statue of the Virgin that had been excavated there, and bade her kneel and pray at this station for what she wished most.

She had prayed for a large wax doll that said papa and mama, and behold, it had arrived the next day.
Madame Delano had told him unequivocally that she had gone directly to Rouen after her husband's death ...