onward into Marquette's tighter embrace, where the corridor compresses and the ceiling plane drops just enough that you register the shift in your shoulders before your mind catches up—the same white oak underfoot that ran so freely through Mankato's expansive volume now channels your movement with deliberate purpose, its grain lines converging toward a vanishing point of natural light ahead. The limestone accent wall that bordered your peripheral vision moments ago has given way to a single plane of blackened steel, cool and magnetic, pulling warmth from the air and lending Marquette the charged intimacy of a gallery anteroom. Here the estate reveals its compositional intelligence, proving that compression can feel as luxurious as release, and the narrowing proportions only heighten your awareness of what McComb is about to unfold.